


Rehabilitation

by katawa_shoujos_bitch



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro Lives, Fix-It, M/M, Redemption, Slow Burn, akechi goro is an emo mess but he doesnt act like it, akechi goro is stupid, all the phantom thieves are present but arent dwelled upon hence no character tags, dumbasses being dumbasses but at least the emotional distance is understandable, id tag akechi and ren but im an idiot so no, no beta we die like men, p5 protagonists personality is not consistent but im trying ok!, persona 5 protagonist is ren in this story, ~rehabilitation~
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22852411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katawa_shoujos_bitch/pseuds/katawa_shoujos_bitch
Summary: Cognitive Akechi did not kill Real Akechi.Turns out psychotic breakdowns fade when they're inflicted in the Metaverse, but man, yelling for thirty straight minutes, trying to kill seven people and a cat, and being fatally wounded really takes it out of you.The Phantom Thieves manage to save Akechi Goro during his breakdown. It's Ren's idea to try to 'rehabilitate' him and give him another chance. Too bad they're all still pretty shaken and Akechi can barely think straight. Maybe with an attractive offer... and some unorthodox methods...Maybe this time Akechi doesn't stand a chance. He'll become their friend, and he can't stop it.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 9
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (ratings n shit might change because parts of this are still a wip, its probably general audiences right now but its teen and up Just In Case)

“Come with us.” 

The words rang in Akechi’s ears, hollow and distant and impossible to hear. No--impossible to believe. Ren Amamiya was as a distant dream now, even as he stood mere meters away, weapons drawn and persona ready to attack.

_Come with us?_

Especially now, as his wounds bled, his thoughts were clouded and hazy. He heard himself spit nasty words back. Harsh negations of any kindness thrown his way. He was angry, _so_ angry his hands shook and every word he spoke came out as a shout. But he was, also, too weak to stand… 

_Come with_ us _?_

Another version of him appeared--some cognitive Akechi, drawn up by Shido’s twisted imagination. Akechi’s senses were dulled, perhaps, but his attention was and always had been perpetually sharp. He had firearms. That wouldn’t demand too much of him. He was also semi certain he could get away in time. But, if he left, cognitive Akechi would… _Ren…_

 _Come_ with _us?_

Ren had said that, hadn’t he? It was such an attractive offer. He could give up. He could lower his arm from where he now held it, shaking a little with the effort, aiming his gun at his cognitive twin. He could close his eyes, give up on grasping the last of blurring vision. Give in. 

Give up…? 

_Give up…_

**_Bang._ **

His gun fired. He hadn’t even noticed, but when Akechi looked to the side, he saw his finger on the trigger and the barrel of the gun smoking. And the cognitive corpse. His arm fell, defeated at last. 

“I-I’ll… I’ll _win,_ I should have… I’ll beat you, thieves… I-I’ll… it’ll be _me,_ this time, it… has to be…” 

With that, his last remaining strength betrayed him, leaving Akechi Goro to topple to the ground unceremoniously.

… 

He should be dead, right? This should be the end, the end of him, no life, no glory, no joy, no bright light at the end of the tunnel, just the slow descent into calm darkness that’d overtake him until he’d never have to do any of this again. 

He tried, he really did. Death wouldn’t come. 

… 

Voices. Distantly, he could hear people talking, words overlapping, jumbling together. He couldn’t make any of them out clearly. 

“Is he okay?” 

“I think he’s alive. I don’t know if we can save him.”

“Do we have any Takemi medicine left?” 

“Why are you askin’ me!? Ask the leader.” 

“Joker, what do we have?” 

“Plenty. Oracle, could you keep watch? Make sure no shadows appear.” 

“Gotcha.” 

“Hey, this is the strongest stuff we’ve got, but do you even know how to administer it?”

“Oh, I do. Here, like this.” 

A sharp stab of pain down the side of his arm. Akechi heard himself wince. 

“Have you done this before?” 

“No, but I had to learn it a few months back.” 

“I do hope you administered it correctly. He seemed to experience pain.” 

“Oh, shut it. I’m sure I remember.” 

“How long should it take to work, do you think?” 

A pause. Rustling. 

“At least a couple hours.” 

“Too long.” 

“Shit, but we need to keep moving. We don’t have our infiltration route, right?” 

“Yeah. Someone needs to take him back.” 

“Who? And where?” 

“Um, let’s see. Leader needs to stay, and we need Oracle. Myself, Noir, and Skull, as well as Joker, have been leading the fights, so we should stay. Mona is a cat, and I honestly don’t trust Fox. That leaves Panther. As for where…” 

“Leblanc.” 

“Are you sure? It might not be safe.” 

“I’m… sure. Panther, can you get him to Leblanc? Upstairs, if you can. It’d be safer there.” 

“Uh… yeah, sure, I can do that.” 

Whatever they’d given him had been strong, and though it might take hours to reach its full potential, it was already taking some effect. While a moment ago the voices were hazy, he now could make guesses at who said what, and while a moment ago he couldn’t feel the ground under him, he now felt two arms loop around him with practiced ease and lift him as though he weighed nothing. 

“You make that look so easy.” 

“You know, I’m not so strong. He’s just… really light.” 

A short scoff. “He’s not _that_ light. You’ve gotten stronger, clearly.” 

“Hm, maybe!” 

Akechi managed--with _astronomical_ effort, but still--to open his eyes, just slightly, and just for a moment--just long enough to catch Ren’s--Joker’s--across the room, before Akechi’s eyes closed again and Ren averted his. 

Might as well sleep a little longer. 

~~~

This time, when Akechi came to, he was not fighting through pain or haziness. The medicine worked wonders, it seemed. He opened his eyes slowly, hesitant, not really wanting to enter back into the world quite yet. In unconsciousness, there was nothing but haziness and incomprehensible dreamscapes. Here, he’d lost--he’d lost _again,_ to a group of teenaged _criminals,_ no less, and how in the world could he _face that?_ It was impossible. What was he supposed to do?

But he opened his eyes.

He seemed to be on the ground, though the ground was padded in a thick blanket and his whole body was blanketed as well. He was back in his usual uniform. The real world. 

Across the room was a girl--Ann, he thought?--leaning back on a couch and flipping through a magazine. 

“Oh, you’re awake.” She smiled at Akechi, and it seemed a little forced, but… “Sorry, you’re on the ground. They didn’t tell me _not_ to give you the bed, but, y’know, I didn’t think Ren would like that very much.” She laughed a little. “The medicine worked?” 

“Yes.” Akechi sat up, and much to his surprise, found nearly all of his injuries gone, like magic. What the hell had they given him? “This is…” 

“Ren’s room.” Ann(?) set her magazine down. “Why, have you been up here?” 

_Ren’s room._ “No… I haven’t. I’d, ah, like to say…” 

She raised a hand, cutting him off. “I’d save it. Everyone else said they’d gather up here once they secure their route in the palace.” She sighed. “I’m only here because of you. Normally I’d be helping them, so I really hope you don’t pull anything. Or, at least, wait until everyone gets here to get mad, okay? Anyway, do you need, like, water? Or anything? You were pretty hurt.” 

“...No.” 

“Well, the cafe’s closed. It’s right down those stairs. You know your way around, right? You can go and get it if you need it.” 

Akechi nodded, still a little stunned. It wasn’t like him to be so silent, and surely he’d snap out of his strange stupor soon. He had to, after all. Everyone was coming. 

~~~

When Ann went downstairs to greet the rest of the Phantom Thieves, Akechi took the time to compose himself. Fix his uniform--slightly disheveled, how could he?--adjust his hair, still over his face a little but that was fine. Prepare how he’d speak. How he’d explain that he _couldn’t_ join them or be their friend _(friend…)_ or teammate.

It seemed easy to explain, even as Akechi had to take conscious effort to keep calm, don’t panic, don’t yell, don’t lose your composure again. He was entirely prepared, composed, ready to explain himself and god knows what he’d do next but at least he was ready for this. Perfectly. _Composed._

And then Ren appeared at the top of the stairs. 

And there went his perfect composure as Akechi flushed, silently scrambling to regain his plan, completely out the window. 

The entire group was large. Too many people gathered around the too-small table in the attic _(yeah, if he referred to it as Ren’s room all would be lost)_ and too many eyes pinned on him. Looked like they were all about to speak. He started first, cutting them off. 

“I would like to acknowledge my… failure, against all of you. As such, I accept your victory this time. However, though it may be presumptuous of me to ask, I would like to request that you…” He took a breath, tightening his fist. “... _destroy_ Shido and hold nothing back.” 

Akechi was pretty sure he’d had more to say. But those words were gone. All he could do was hope and hold himself steady as Ren tilted his head to one side and looked to his teammates for their opinion. 

The blonde--Ryuji--was the first to speak. “Why don’t ya just do it with us?” 

“That’s true,” Makoto spoke, “you’d be a great help to us, you know.” 

“I… that is not an option.” 

Ren met his eyes. “Why not?” 

“I--Well. I don’t want pity. I have no interest in playing on a team.” 

“That’s bullsh--” 

“Ryuji.” 

Akechi took a breath. “I simply do not belong. I will continue my… efforts elsewhere. Alone.” He looked away, not wanting to hold Ren’s gaze another moment. “Will you allow me to leave peacefully?”

“You have attempted to end the lives of each one of us, as well as Ren’s on two occasions. In addition, we have saved your life. You would do well to spare us a thought.” Yusuke spoke in that same tone as always.

“I am aware. I’m…” _Unwanted. Unneeded. Unloved. Un…_ “I have lost. I may not join those who have defeated me, yes? I am not your friend. You have never cared for me, and I have never cared for you.” 

Ryuji jumped forward again. _This guy never shuts up, huh?_ “That’s a fucking lie, you--” 

“I cared for you.”

Akechi’s eyes flicked up. Was that really who he thought it was? 

Ren’s eyes met his once again in solemn resolve, no irony in them. He wasn’t mocking him. _Oh…_

“No need for pity, Amamiya.” 

“I don’t pity you, Goro.”

Akechi bit his tongue and hoped no one noticed. 

_Goro._

“In the past, I offered Yusuke the chance to stay here while he had nowhere to live. He only stayed a night, but do know I’m not making an exception for you.” Ren’s eyes remained steady. Akechi remained decidedly silent. “This isn’t pity. Now that I’ve established that, I’m asking you if you’d like to stay at Leblanc with me--temporarily, of course, Morgana is enough to live with--and join our team.”

… “That is not the same as your offer to Kitagawa, Amamiya. You two are friends.” 

The rest of the table was entirely silent, watching Ren and Akechi and what had essentially become a staring contest. Incredibly juvenile. “We’re friends, Goro. Right?” 

Akechi crumpled. _We’re friends, right?_ “I do not wish to fight. I… apologize for my actions.” He swallowed. _Where else would he go, other than… well, what was his other option?_ He could go back to Shido, sure, but he had until the election at the latest (only a week away) before either he experienced a change of heart or a mental shutdown, or worse, was left undealt with and… _disposed_ of Akechi just after he won political office. Once in that position of power, it’d be easy to cover up. The palace had revealed he planned to do just that. 

And aside from Shido. He had another year _another full year_ before he could legally live entirely on his own. His other option would be to go back to how it was before. 

Alone. 

Completely alone. Painfully, achingly alone. That familiar empty feeling, staring at a ceiling he might never see after the night’s end, wishing dawn would come just so he could hear a voice. 

He closed his eyes. He’d have to decide between that and the loss of his pride. 

To return to that, or… his alternative was to stay. Stay here with Ren. Live in this room, presumably sleep on the couch. Go to school, maybe. Surely. Probably not. Come home ( _home_ ) to Futaba sitting at the cafe, playing a game or rambling to her father. Having a cup of coffee with them. Ren sitting beside him. Going their own separate ways—or maybe not, sometimes—and returning home, going upstairs together. Saying goodnight. Akechi would take longer to fall asleep (he always did), and would stare at the ceiling, knowing it’d be the same one tomorrow. Listening to Ren’s breathing until he fell asleep. 

Temporarily, of course. 

“...I…”

He couldn’t say no. 

He really _should_ say no. 

He can’t say no. 

He can’t say no to the seven people and a cat gathered around him, watching him with expectant eyes. He can’t say no to Makoto telling him she’s envious of his strength, how helpful he’d be in battle. He can’t say no to Yusuke’s quiet, admittedly shaky logic. Ryuji annoyed him, but he did have a point. 

And he couldn’t say no to Ren. Point blank, instant loss. He _couldn’t._

Akechi can’t say no. 

“I…” He has every reason to say no. “...suppose I have no reason to decline.”

And their _eyes_ lit up. He saw it. Makoto was relieved, Yusuke was pleased. Morgana looked happy (somehow?), Ann smiled, Ryuji shook his head but he looked happy too, or at least Akechi thought. Futaba clasped her hands together. Haru almost gasped out loud, but covered her mouth. 

And, much to Akechi’s absolute horror, Ren smiled at him.

Did Akechi have any resolve to begin with? Because, god, it sure didn’t seem like it. Well, no matter. By having a place to live--a place to _stay,_ Akechi--he’d… be able to plan. Prepare. Find another way to take Shido down--that man, cruel beyond words, terrible, despicable, the most-- 

Ren _smiled_ at him. 

~~~

Everything that happened next barely registered. Akechi was tired--he’s _so_ tired that his usual persona (ha, persona…) drops and he found himself silent again. The wasted time kind of killed him inside, but he can… leave everything for tomorrow. 

No, that was giving himself too much credit. It wasn’t his decision to leave everything. In truth, the moment the Phantom Thieves left (except Ren and Morgana, of course), filing out the door and chattering all the way out, Akechi had pulled out his phone to call his agent, see what he could do in terms of damage control and salvaging what’s left of his public image. It was Ren who suggested he leave it. Ren who pointed out the couch, Ren who commented on how late it was and how it would be the most efficient use of time for them to just go to sleep.

Akechi didn’t have clothes. Ren offered to let him borrow some. Akechi vehemently denied and instead simply took his jacket off and slept in his shirt. Ren nodded, and Morgana prompted him to go to sleep. Ren obeyed. Akechi did too, a bit reluctantly. 

The room was dark. Stars were scattered across the ceiling. Looked like a poster of some kind, wrapped around the wooden beams. Akechi looked at them and looked at them and looked at them. 

As he expected, Ren was already asleep. His breathing was slow, calm. Peaceful. Akechi closed his eyes. Listening. Listening… 

~~~

“Hey, Akechi…” 

Bright light. It shone right over Akechi’s eyes. He winced. No, not yet. He’d have to get up for another day of sucking up to Shido, gritting his teeth against his own boiling anger, biding his time until it was finally the right time to take him down.

“Akechi…” 

Something was happening. He usually wasn’t woken by a person, just by a clock. This meant he probably had to get up early, and it was on short notice, and what would happen today?

“It’s late, Goro.” 

_Goro?_

That didn’t seem right. How long had it been since Akechi had been called by his first name? Shido never would, nor would any of the people who worked for him. 

And then someone touched his shoulder. 

Akechi jolted upright, moved by sharp, intense sensation flooding from his shoulder down his arm. 

“Oh! ...Are you okay?” Ren stood over him, already dressed for the day, a concerned look on his face. Which made sense, anyway. Akechi knew his movement was sudden and his heart was still pounding, what the _hell_ was _that?_

He blinked. “...yeah. Yes, I’m fine.” 

“You sure? You seemed really startled.” 

It wasn’t like Ren to talk like that. He was a jokester-- _Joker--_ and he usually spoke in calm, even tones and sarcastic comments. He kept his distance, was quiet, albeit not exactly shy. But right then, he sat just a little too close, looking a little too concerned, his voice just a little too low. 

Akechi looked towards the ceiling in a silent prayer. 

“I’m fine. I promise, don’t worry about me.” 

Ren nodded and leaned back. Akechi found himself able to breathe again. “Okay, I believe you.” 

_Believe me?_

“Not going to school today?” 

Ren looked away, eyes flashing cold. “No, I can’t.” He seemed to hesitate, before adding, “I’m still believed to be dead.”

Akechi paused. “Right. Sorry to hear that.”

A moment of silence fell, eventually broken by Ren standing suddenly and turning towards the stairs. “Leblanc’s still closed today, so we’re all going to eat together in a few minutes. You’re free to come.” 

“It hasn’t yet been cleared that I’m staying here. Should I… talk to Sakura-san about it this morning?” 

Ren shook his head. “I already talked to him. Also, call him Sojiro, you know how he is. Oh, and,” he glanced back at Akechi for a moment, “you’re always pleasant, but I’d be meticulous about how you act. Sojiro’s not really trusting you yet.”

And then he disappeared down the stairs. For a moment Akechi sat, dumbstruck for no real reason, but he promptly stood and located his jacked. Had to smooth it out a bit. His phone was in his pocket, and he pulled it out and checked for missed calls. None. He grimaced. That was a bad sign. In the past, nothing to report had meant nothing wrong. Now, nothing to report meant no chance, kid. 

Akechi considered. To make a last grasp at saving his career, or to go downstairs to meet Sojiro and try to win his favor despite the fact that mere weeks ago Akechi had tried to kill his adopted son. 

He dialed his phone. 

“Akechi?” The familiar voice called out over the line. “What do you want?” 

“I’d like to begin moving forward. Do you happen to have any leads on what I could proceed with, here on?” 

A short scoff could be heard. “You know I like you, but business is business, ‘Kechi. I can’t keep showing you favoritism. The Phantom Thief stuff won’t sell anymore, and you’re totally aligned with it. Movin’ forward with you would mean a complete reboot of your image, and quite frankly, I don’t have the time or the money to spare. Heh, basically, sorry, ‘Kechi, but unless you can completely remove your image from that of the Phantom Thieves, I can’t help you.” 

“Wait, I’d--” 

The line went dead before he could continue. 

He stood, paralyzed, stalled in his steps. The praise of the masses had always been artificial, yes, but it had been a kind of floatation device. An _‘at least I have this’_ kind of deal when the weight of existence felt particularly heavy and the feeling of being present in the world felt particularly sinful. 

There it went. 

It’s a surprisingly paralyzing thing. Want. Whether it be physiological, psychological, emotional. Akechi was used to the feeling. At least, he always _thought_ he was, but when it turned from a passive _want_ to a clawing, desperate **_need_ **he always found himself unprepared, paralyzed, standing at the top of a staircase, needing to go down. Any way would work. 

Akechi looked down the staircase. Not very far. Not worth it. 

He descended it slowly, with methodical steps and a grip on the railing just a little too tight. 

His shoulder still burned with the lingering feeling of Ren’s hand. 

~~~

Akechi paused at the bottom of the stairs, still concealed by the wall. Seemed he was late, the three were already sitting together at the center booth, talking to each other. 

“I don’t know. He seems dangerous.” 

“He’s our friend! Let him stayyy, pleassse!” 

“Yeah, alright, alright, I already agreed, just don’t let him do anything stupid, alright?” 

“Of course. I… I’m hoping we can help him, I guess. Think of this like his rehabilitation.”

_Rehabilitation._

He took a breath, _no point standing here,_ and walked out, keeping each step steady. Rhythmic. Without a single flaw. 

“Oh, Akechi! Welcome down, took you long enough.”

“Sorry about that, I had to make a call. Thank you for having me.” Akechi saw, to a bit of his own anxiety, that the seat he seemed expected to take was the one next to Ren. He took it, though, movements careful. 

He looked down. Curry? For breakfast? He knew that’s what was most often served here, but still. 

…

It was good. 

“So, Akechi, what’s your plan?” 

Akechi looked up. “Oh, I’m… working it out. Don’t worry, I don’t plan to stay long or do… anything. Ren was kind enough to allow me to stay here rather than--” _Being alone, being alone, being alone, cold, dark, un--_ “Being alone.”

Futaba nodded. “I like having Akechi here. How long do you think you’ll stay, if it’s not long?” 

“Well…” Akechi found himself acutely aware of where he sat. He’d always liked it at Leblanc--he’d said it enough times--but now it was different, eating a semi-awkward meal with Ren and his sister and his father. Aware of the emptiness, that this was a private occurrence. Aware of Futaba’s eyes on him. _Aware, strikingly aware, of Ren, right next to him, right next to him, right--_ “...I don’t like to intrude, I’m aware I’m unwelcome. As soon as I can sort something else, I’ll be gone. And I, um…” He shut his eyes. “...I do have… things I need to do. At some point. Soon.”

Ren nodded knowingly, and Futaba gave him a smile that conveyed just about the same message. If Akechi’s calculations were correct, they’d be sending the calling card out today.

Breakfast passed without much incident. Sojiro gave him the occasional suspicious glance or interrogative comment, but honestly, Akechi had to be grateful he wasn’t getting attacked for coming within five feet of Ren after… well.

He could sense the veil of pity Ren and Futaba had for him. His outburst in the palace was to blame for that. His crimes--numerous, Ren not-with-standing--weren’t excused, that was clear in Futaba’s uncomfortable shift when Akechi moved too suddenly, Ren’s occasional nervous glances in his direction. It hurt more than anything they could have said, especially when their uneasiness was punctuated with sympathy. _Undue_ sympathy, that is. Akechi knew he deserved every bit of the hostility thrown his way, more, even. 

Still, he knew that if he could go back, he would do it all again. Regardless of how bad it was, there were some things he just _needed_ to do, and at the top of list was absolutely _anything_ that would help his fantasy of Shido come to fruition, coughing black in between tearful confessions of every terrible, despicable crime he’d ever committed, finished off with his collapse and the painful death he deserved. 

_Woah._

When Sojiro grumbled his way out of Leblanc and Futaba followed him, the cafe was left pointedly silent. 

Moments later, Akechi would learn that Ren had things to do that day. No calling card yet, he’d said, maybe tomorrow. Akechi was left alone, which, for all its flaws, might not have been such a bad thing. 

Akechi was at his breaking point. Even he had his limits, despite what he’d like the general everybody to believe. Turned out, his breaking point was having to stay in the home of the only person who’d ever shown him affection, just days after trying to kill him (twice) and all of his friends (once) and spilling all his issues in an embarrassingly long episode of scream-crying. 

Figured. 

There were less reasonable things to be upset over, he reasoned. This was at least semi-valid, though it did all add up to being an unwelcome guest. The thought kind of made him sick.

So, despite the quiet whisper of wasted time in his head, Akechi found himself laying on his back on the couch, counting the stars on the ceiling. They really were pretty.

Akechi was completely zoned out for the first time he could remember. Usually, the nature of being alive and conscious was having a constant buzzing in his head. Thoughts, memories, internal monologue that devolved from casual to disastrous. Anything, really. Always acutely aware of his environment, his situation. But right then, none of that mattered. All he thought of were the stars above him. 

Maybe that was the reason why, when Ren walked up the stairs a while later, Akechi nearly jumped out of his skin. He composed himself, though. He felt like an idiot.

“Hey, Akechi.” Ren gave a little half-smile. “Since there’s only a half day of school tomorrow, we decided to send the calling card after class, and go into the Palace on Sunday. They said you can come with us. If you want.” 

Akechi blinked at him, dumbfounded. And this _really_ wasn’t like him, to be driven so speechless so often. “Come… with you?” 

“Yeah. This is… really important to you, right?” 

Akechi nodded before he could think too much about it. Because god, _yeah,_ ‘important’ was one hell of an understatement. 

For this, he was willing to impose. 

“...Thank you. I’d love to help.” His speech sounded stilted. Unsure. He _was_ sure of what he said. Was only unsure of his footing and his actions as he stood and crossed the room to Ren. Took his hand and clasped it gratefully. “Thank you.” 

Ren held his gaze for the briefest of moments before looking down to his hands. Both of them were held together, Akechi’s gloved ones on either side. He looked just ever-so-slightly flushed at the sight, and Akechi suddenly found himself grateful for the gloves preventing that contact. Even so, it rang in his head. 

So Akechi dropped Ren’s hands and turned away. In the corner of his eye, Ren brought one hand to his lips thoughtfully, as though parsing out the situation. What to say next. “We’re going to meet in Leblanc--up here, actually, so I guess it’s a good thing you agreed--tomorrow at about one, so… you’ll see everyone then, I suppose.” 

“Yes, I suppose,” Akechi managed, turning back just a little bit. So as not to be rude. 

Ren bit his lip, still with a considering expression on his face. “It’s only, like, noon. Do you… want to go somewhere?” 

“I’d…” _I’ll get recognized,_ is what he wanted to say, but belatedly realized that might not be so much of a concern anymore. “Sure. Can I stop by somewhere to… get some of my things?” 

Ren looked surprised. “Oh, right, I forgot about that.” He actually looked embarrassed. “Of course.” 

“Where did you want to go?” 

“To lunch, I guess.” 

“Is that safe? What with… everything?” 

Ren seemed to grimace. “As long as I keep my hood up, it's been fine so far.” He paused. “How about to that diner?” 

“Sure.” Akechi agreed readily. 

“Then, let’s go.” Ren extended a hand to him, and Akechi took a pause. Was that meant to gesture him to start moving, or to take his hand? Akechi wasn’t sure. He assumed the former. It seemed to be correct. 

~~~

“Would you like something to drink?” 

The diner was smaller than Akechi had expected. Quaint, maybe. Regardless, it seemed like the light rain was keeping most people indoors, and it left him and Ren pretty much completely alone in there, spare the staff and a few friends giggling in the corner. 

The waitress looked at them with what was quite obviously a practiced smile. For a moment, Akechi considered what she might be thinking behind it. _I want to go home,_ probably, or, _why are two kids here alone?,_ less probable, but possible. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Ren’s voice. 

“Black coffee, please. Akechi?” 

Akechi looked up, a little startled but certainly not _showing_ it. “Hm… the same, please.” 

With a nod and a quick mark with a pencil, she was gone. Silence fell, uncharacteristic, especially for Akechi. He was very aware of the situation. Metaverse. Trying to kill all of Ren’s friends. And Ren, twice. 

Belatedly, he glanced to the side and noticed the absent Morgana. Morgana was always wherever Ren was, curled up in his bag. Akechi had actually found it somewhat endearing--until he’d heard Morgana speak, and all hell broke loose in his head. Whatever. 

The _point_ is, his head seemed to shake him back to the issue at hand, is that Ren _always_ has that cat, and today, he doesn’t. Akechi took a bit too much energy thinking about this. Detective habit, maybe. The thought that Ren would intentionally leave Morgana with someone. So he could be alone with Akechi? They _did_ have important things to discuss. 

“What do you think you’ll get?” When Ren spoke, he was holding a menu in such a fashion that it covered half his face, and his legs were crossed just far enough to the side to make the pose look a little unnatural. Awkward, or was this just how he sat when he was trying to come across a certain way? Come to think of it, Akechi was semi-certain he’d seen Ren shift into a similar pose before--

He looked down at the menu in front of him. Halfway barren. “I’m not sure yet. There don’t seem to be many options.” 

“Yeah,” Ren scoffed, “for all this town’s virtues, it would be nice to have a diner with more than one entree. A place where you could just enjoy a muffin or something.” He shook his head, light smile on his face. “So, are you hungry? If so, I always hear great things about the ‘nostalgic steak’. It’s pretty much way too big in portion size, but it’s pretty affordable for what it is. Other than that, you might be stuck with coffee.”

Akechi was not particularly hungry, not exactly a surprise considering he wasn’t emotionally off the hook yet. Still not acting like himself. He was still _stumbling over his words,_ for god’s sake. “Interesting name, and you make a strong case, but I don’t think I could handle a large portion right now.” 

Ren gave him a meaningful nod. It felt fake, like he was going through the motions of having a friend, even though Akechi didn’t fit the bill. Well, to be fair, how could he, after everything? “Mm, yeah, me neither.” He sighed, halfway dramatic, and leaned back, setting the menu down and spinning a lock of hair on his finger. “We’re out of luck, huh? Unless we split it.” 

The way Ren chewed his lip at that prospect gave Akechi the impression it didn’t particularly thrill him, even though he was the one who suggested it. Akechi tried to give an easy laugh, but it came out a little stilted. “You seem displeased. Not a fan of sharing food?” 

Ren’s finger stopped twirling. Akechi’s thoughts became more stable--though it’s by a miniscule margin. “No, I don’t mind it, it’s just… I didn’t think you’d be comfortable with it. It doesn’t seem like something you’d like.” 

And Akechi had to take a second and swallow his thoughts because god, come to think of it, the idea did seem pretty nerve-wracking when he thought about it in any depth. Leaning together. Forks clinking together. Hands knock once, they laugh it off. The thought was almost intimate. For the briefest of moments, Akechi thought it might be tempting, but the feeling subsided. After all, Akechi reminded himself, he doesn’t care for intimacy. Never mind the gooey friendship stuff, just being that physically close to a person makes his skin crawl. 

Though. He made the wise decision to _not_ mull over the sharp electric spike up his arm when Ren had touched it. Unconsciously, his hand drifted to that exact spot. 

Still, he decided to play it casual. It seemed like a terrible idea to turn down pretty much any of Ren’s ideas just then. So he shrugged. “I don’t mind it if you don’t.”

~~~

Ren was just too nice for his own good. He wanted to help people so badly, it… Akechi rested his head on one hand. Ren was definitely being too nice to him. It didn’t check out, at pretty much every turn. Akechi could only conjure one possible explanation. Ren was just way too nice.

More so than Akechi had even expected. Nice enough to spend hours and hours and days and risk his life repeatedly to take down evil, sure. Akechi already knew about that, and regardless of his personal opinions on the morality of the matter, he knew now that, at the end of the day, the Phantom Thieves believed themselves to be serving justice. Doing what’s right. 

But, Ren was being nice to Akechi. To _Akechi._ Forget the occasional nervous glance, awkward position, stilted comments. Forget that Ren’s entire personality seemed to move two inches to the left every time Akechi came near him. He was being _nice_ to him, kind, far too kind. He let him stay in his room. He let him come near his family. He offered to share a damn meal with him. And Akechi had accepted all of the above--maybe an even more surprising twist than anything Ren could pull. 

Because every movement either of them made was tentative. Because Ren kept giving him this half-smile. Because their hands had to get really close to share the food. Because Ren made a couple bad taste cracks about it. Because Akechi didn’t completely hate it.

Because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Akechi really, _really_ wanted things to go back to how they were. When he could just show up in the cafe. When Ren would greet him with a detached nod, and he’d have to initiate the conversation himself. When he could speak and present himself in the image he desired. When they were thesis and antithesis. The perfect pair. 

_Ren’s eyes, wide, staring at him. Both of them completely still, no shaking, and Akechi felt no fear. Ren was scared, it was clear on his face, but somewhat resigned. The stolen gun. Aimed downward. Metal pressed against the center of Ren’s forehead._

_Ren never closed his eyes. It was like a final stand. Stubborn._

_Akechi fired._

It was an unwelcome memory. Akechi set his fork down, beginning to feel a little ill. Ren mirrored his movements, and the similarity between their actions stuck out in Akechi’s mind, only worsening the feeling.

“Something wrong?” 

Akechi shook his head, then nodded, then shook it again. “I’m sorry. It’s nothing you don’t already know, if that’s any… consolation.” Well, that made no sense. It didn’t matter. His usual repertoire was slowly coming back to him. Slowly. 

It looked like Ren was trying to balance the fork upright on the table, spikes pointing towards the ceiling. Ren had a certain proficiency with his hands, but this looked to be out of his wheelhouse. Out of anybody’s, maybe. He tilted his head a bit to the side, as though trying to get a better angle from which to approach his impossible task. “We can leave once they bring the check.” 

“We can indeed.” Akechi was exerting active effort to keep completely still in the little booth. “I have the means to get my things on my own, if you’d prefer to go straight home or meet with a friend. I wouldn’t want to take up your evening.” 

Ren nodded, seeming to give up on the fork and pulling out his phone instead. “Huh, thanks. Haru texted me, I should probably meet up with her when I can.” 

Akechi nodded, all understanding and practiced elegance. 

When the check did eventually come, Akechi took the initiative to try to pay. It was the decent thing to do, even if he wasn’t in a situation that… well, just, even in a normal circumstance, he would offer. Ren’s light protests faded quickly. Even he seemed to get it and accept it. 

The pair got up to leave, moving towards the exit at a slightly-faster-than-average pace. 

The early night air was cool, fall fading into winter, and neither of their attires were appropriate. In Akechi’s defense, all his things were in his apartment. In Ren’s defense, well, he probably had some excuse. 

For a moment, Ren looked awkward. One leg bent back and tapping the toe of his shoe on the pavement, contemplative. He turned his head, a little slowly, to Akechi. Said nothing for a moment. 

Then… 

“I… want to make things better. I want things to be better. That’s all I want.” 

Akechi frowned. “...I… Sometimes you can’t fix things. Not like this.” He paused, watched as Ren’s eyes fell, staring at the pavement. Somehow, it made his chest hurt. He looked upset. “I don’t know if this can be fixed by us working together. It may simply be that one of us will win, and one of us will lose.”

Ren considered. “Then. You intend to win?” 

“I do.” 

“Well,” he muttered, resigned, “then… I guess there are some things that need to be done.” 

With that, Ren turned his back the rest of the way, and began walking out into the night, leaving Akechi alone on the pavement, save for the chattering of the public, and humming of passing cars. 

Alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calling cards, coffee, and delirium.

The apartment hadn’t changed. It felt wrong. So much had happened since Akechi stepped foot in here, and yet everything laid in exactly the same place. Not that there was much laying around, except a textbook and his computer. 

_ Minimalistic,  _ he used to call it. But now? 

Akechi stood in the center of the room. Was there anything there he even wanted? Not really. Only having to force himself to move a little bit, Akechi walked into his bedroom--well, not right now, but soon--to grab some clothes and basic necessities. No point bringing anything more. He didn’t have much else he particularly cared for, and besides, the base desire to impose as little as possible suffocated any lingering desire for extravagance. 

It only required one bag. That was how little he cared to bring. On the way out the door, he glanced over to his bicycle, only a little longingly. It was too much to bring. There were lines, and Akechi wasn’t prepared to begin crossing them recklessly. Recklessness was not his general M.O. 

Out the door, down the stairs (busy elevator, because why not?), and into the night, the sun already fallen behind the skyline and temperature dropping so sharply it made Akechi gasp a little. Not dressed appropriately.

His things wouldn’t have been quite so heavy if he hadn’t brought his school supplies. Most of his woes came from the two textbooks and a computer--between them were all the studies he really did need to catch up on soon. Psychotic breakdowns and near-death experiences be damned, he still needed to pass his exams. 

Despite the late hour, the light in Leblanc was still on, offensively warm and inviting. Akechi shook his head ever-so-slightly, willing the lingering itch from the train to dissipate. It was so,  _ so  _ crowded and it irritated him to no end. 

Inside, the downstairs was completely empty except for the light that continued to shine, so nice, so irritatingly nice. It was probably left on so Akechi would know the door wasn’t locked, so he’d be able to find his way around, so he’d be able to make his way upstairs. So nice. Too nice. 

He made his way upstairs. And, how long had he been gone for? A sleeping Ren was already sprawled out across the bed. Somehow, Akechi’s trip to his apartment and back (plus the admittedly extended amount of time he’d spent half-nostalgically half-bitterly examining the walls and floor) had taken enough time to give Ren the chance to meet up with Haru, spend time with her, make his way back home, and promptly pass out. Akechi could imagine it with startling clarity, and tried not to give the idea a smile. 

Instead, he was actually able to change this time, finally. Choosing the most modest thing he could find (not that there was anything he brought that  _ wasn’t _ ), he moved quickly in what looked like a closet? And returned to the little attic, suddenly incredibly tired. 

For the first time he could remember, he fell asleep quickly and without having to waste too many minutes staring blankly at the ceiling. 

~~~

From the moment he woke up, Akechi knew something was off. 

Or, maybe not  _ off,  _ but definitely unusual. 

Nothing woke him.  _ Nothing.  _

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d woken up on his own, without an alarm clock or one of Shido’s guys breaking into his apartment to drag him to some meeting that would inevitably lead to Akechi committing another murder. Assassination. Forced mental breakdown. 

Well, it wasn’t exactly breaking in. Legally-A-Minor Akechi was technically under Shido’s custody, and somehow that led to him having a key. There was another three years, really, before he was an adult, but only one until he was eighteen, and he happened to know he’d be able to game the system enough by that point to live completely, totally alone. He’d actually been looking forward to the day when he wouldn’t have to arrive at Shido’s in the early morning. When he could make the choice of when he wanted to wake up (not that he’d choose to sleep in, but… he’d have the option to get up and do the things  _ he  _ wanted to get done), rather than having it forcibly done for him. 

Akechi did not expect it to be today. He’d assumed Ren had a damn alarm clock, or at least an internal clock that would get him up early enough for school. Light sleeper Akechi would never  _ not  _ wake up to Ren moving about. No way. 

Yet, when he sat up, and managed to get eyes on the digital clock on his phone, it read 9:23 A.M. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d slept this late. 

Though, to be fair, he was experiencing a lot of firsts that week. A lot of distant feelings he’d thought he’d lost. Add sleeping in to the list, right next to being smiled at. 

God. 

He stood slowly, searching for a smug Ren, who maybe wanted to see him disheveled? For his own satisfaction? 

Instead, Akechi found a still sleeping Ren, curled into a tight ball with a half-asleep Morgana leaning against him. He was holding his phone, and the lit-up screen indicated that its desperate attempts to wake him had been met with valiant battle. Ren’s prize for winning his fight against his phone alarm seemed to be just about the most uneasy sleep Akechi had ever seen. And Akechi had seen some very uneasy people fall into some very uneasy sleep in his time. 

“Ren…? Hey--Amamiya…” Cautiously, Akechi extended a hand to tap Ren’s arm, wake him faster. Even through the long-sleeve shirt, Akechi could feel that his skin was burning. Unnaturally so for the room, which was actually a little colder than it should be. The area around Ren, though, seemed to be glowing hot. “Amamiya--!?” And--To hell with formality. Akechi shook him by the shoulder, a little frantic. 

“Nnnghh…” Ren groaned at him, batting his hand away and trying to turn away. He made it about two centimeters to the right before giving up. “Go awayy…” His voice had completely shifted into a whine. Akechi frowned. 

A little gingerly, Akechi shifted and touched the back of his hand to Ren’s forehead. As he expected, absolutely burning. “I believe you’ve fallen ill.” 

At that, Ren’s eyes flicked open. “Shit. Shit! No,” He sat upright, suddenly, quickly enough to send a still-dazed Morgana tumbling to the ground with an indignant hiss and a few comments along the lines of ‘be careful!’ and ‘I’m not really a cat, you know!’. Ren ignored him, instead rubbing his eyes and continuing to mutter ‘shit’ over and over again. “What time is it?” 

“Almost nine thirty.”

“ _ Shit!”  _ Ren flung both hands to his head. “I gotta--uugghhh--the  _ calling card--school--! _ ”

Practically shoving Akechi to the ground in his movements, Ren stumbled to his feet and seemed to try to assess his actions. That is, until gravity seemed to catch up to him and he lost his balance. All instincts, Akechi grabbed him by the arm. The still-burning arm. “You’re not going to school, clearly you're not well enough.” 

Ren stretched out an arm, feeling around in the air until finding the bed and lowering himself back into a sitting position and holding his head in his hands. Akechi let go of him and backed away. “No, I  _ have  _ to go. It’s--” he seemed to remember it was Akechi he was talking to--who could blame him?--and revise his words. “-- _ important things to talk about  _ and I need to be th… god, odds I can recover by noon?” 

“I’d have to say slim to none.” 

“ _ Ugh. _ ” Ren groaned again, face hidden in his hands. Akechi considered. 

“Here, what about this,” he offered, “you call up your group, tell them you’re sick and they’ll have to send the card without you. Tell them to meet at, ah… behind your school, Shujin. Then, you go back to sleep for as long as you can. With any luck, you’ll be recovered in time to go into the palace.” 

Ren lifted his head just enough to shake it, a little violently, before wincing with the effort and falling back. “I--god. I can’t stay home today. I’m the le--they can’t--agh, why can’t I  _ think-- _ !”

Akechi’s better judgement stated (with notable desperation) that he should definitely let this go. Be kind, definitely, offer help, certainly, but go against Ren’s wishes? Definitely not, incredibly dangerous. Let Ren do what he wants, and certainly don’t get close to him. Not emotionally, not physically, not-- “Because you’re unwell. You shouldn’t--” He swallowed, throat dry. “You shouldn’t overexert yourself. Go back to sleep--ah… Amamiya.”

With only a little bit of dramatics, Ren flung himself backwards against the mattress and shut his eyes. “Gorooo…” his voice pitched back into almost a whine. Allowing for only the briefest moment of silence, Ren cracked one eye open, eyeing Akechi, who only kind of held the gaze. “I don’t suppose you’ll be the one taking care of me…”

_ Taking care of--  _ Akechi opened and closed his mouth more times than he deemed acceptable (and of course, acceptable is  _ once-- _ open your mouth and  _ speak,  _ Akechi!), before managing to gather his thoughts enough to get out, “...You’re delirious.”

Ren closed his eyes again, and Akechi sighed, hoping it wasn’t audible. “Maybe…” Ren’s voice was soft, before fading off entirely. Asleep again. 

Ren was an inherently enchanting person. Objectively. Clearly. Inarguably. This was fact, and it was clear to see in the effect he had on those around him. Not many people were able to win over, say, Makoto Nijima. Not many people would be able to build the bonds and confidants he did, and in this was his inherent charm. 

This was what Akechi decided as he awkwardly tried to help Ren into a more comfortable sleeping position. He didn’t get much help from Ren, except the occasional half-asleep, annoyed noise, and that was quite honestly more of a hindrance than a help in every conceivable way. 

Moving slowly, with practiced, meticulous steps, Akechi headed down the stairs (he looked presentable enough for this, right? He would only be down a moment), intending to get a cup of water or something like that, but instead finding the cafe open and not exactly  _ busy,  _ but busy  _ enough  _ that he hurried back upstairs to change into a more suitable, everyday outfit. 

When he finally  _ did  _ manage to obtain the water and make it back upstairs (with nothing more than a glance of thinly veiled suspect from Sojiro), Ren had gotten himself back into another terrible position that looked like it’d cause him to wake up in extra pain. 

Akechi was not prepared to fight with Sleeping Ren again. He set the water down and returned to his couch, determined to get some of his work done today. He had his books, found them in his bag where he’d left them. He’d focus on Japanese, he was the most behind on that, anyway, and besides, the rote memorization of stroke orders and radicals was a simple, welcome distraction from his life.

But he kept glancing up. Because Ren kept making little tortured whimpers from across the room.  _ He’s sick. What did you expect? Peaceful sleep?  _ Akechi grit his teeth and wrote the same 20-stroke Kanji a tenth time, still not sufficiently ingrained into his memory. 

Onto a different subject, then. Math, maybe. It tended to be easy when he thought of it as a puzzle to be solved, just, a puzzle he needed to utilize unusual skills for. 2x^2 derives to 4x. So, at x=3, y=18, and the slope is 12. So, if 2x^2 is the rate of how quickly single-celled organisms multiply (and he was pretty sure the equation for that should be a bit longer than 2x^2, and probably differed based on the organism, but…), in the unit of seconds, than three seconds in, at that instant, they were reproducing at exactly twelve organisms per second. 

Easy enough. 

He studied the page, willing his focus to stay on the numbers, reading each word with meticulous precision. 

_ If a conical shape is growing upwards at a rate of 2cm/sec, and its volume is increasing at a rate of 3cm^2/sec, and…  _

Akechi blinked hard. 

_...the radius…  _

He shook his head. 

_...what is the rate of…  _

He got as far as writing ‘dv’ before another muffled ‘ _ Goro _ ’ came from across the room. With a sharp inhale, Akechi snapped his book shut and pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose as if that was really enough to stop the pressure building behind his eyes. He bet he maybe had ten minutes before it became straight-up painful.

“Ren, do you need something?” Akechi bit his tongue, having used Ren’s first name without thinking, but Ren didn’t seem to notice. Which tracked, as Ren was still red from fever. 

“You’re  _ ignoring  _ me!” 

“I’m studying.” 

“I’m  _ sick,  _ and you made me stay  _ home,  _ you could at least give m’ attnshh--attention!” His words started to blend together for a moment before he somehow seemed to gather enough control to be coherent. 

Akechi frowned. “How is it that you’re acting as though you’ve taken too much medicine, when I know I didn’t give you any and you haven’t moved? Unless this entirely symptoms of fever, in which case, I’m taking you to the clinic.” 

“Oh, please do. Doc Takemi’s the best,” He muttered, half-lilting tone in his voice. “Nah, I totally took a bunch. Wanna get better, wanna get better by tomorrow.” Ren lifted his arm to reveal a half-empty container of cold medicine. “What, you don’t keep meds next to your bed?”

“What? That thing’s half empty, don’t tell me you--”

“It wasn’t full before, don’t worry.” As if to emphasize his point, Ren moved the container back and forth with just enough force to slosh it around. “‘Mm going back to sleep. Do your studying or whatever.” With that, he turned back towards the wall and set the medicine next to the bed, all in one motion. 

Akechi glanced at the clock. Past eleven. At least he’d gotten  _ some  _ work done--not nearly enough, but, it was something. He hoped the calling card was a short ordeal, so he could get back, and… 

No. This was Shido’s calling card. Far too important to cut off with anything, studying, image,  _ anything.  _ This was Shido, what he’d been fighting for. Finally he’d be able to… 

Able to…

He stood, a little too suddenly, and pressed one hand to the wall, dizzy. Shaking his head to clear it, he looked back at Ren, passed out again. Did Sojiro even know Ren was ill? Akechi should probably tell him. The dizzy feeling wouldn’t subside. For a moment, he considered the possibility that he’d caught Ren’s fever, but he was fine except the dizziness, and his face was only a little hot, not enough to constitute fever.

Instead of dwelling on it, he made his way downstairs, not bringing anything with him. He wouldn’t need anything. 

Just in case, he quickly washed his hands in Leblanc’s sink. He  _ had  _ touched Ren’s arm and forehead, though, he figured, if he was going to be infected, he would already be. They shared a meal, after all. 

He grit his teeth against the memory. 

~~~

Today, at least, he’d taken the care to dress a little warmer.  _ Behind the school,  _ he recalled. He had thirty minutes to get there. 

Before running out the door, he’d informed Sojiro of Ren’s condition. It went about as well as he could expect. From what he’d heard, it’d taken Ren months to gain his approval, and Akechi was certainly starting from a worse place. He didn’t expect to make much progress for some time. As much as it irritated him. 

Unsurprisingly, Akechi arrived first. Unlike the others, he didn’t have the obstacle of school forcing him to stay until exactly noon, so he wound up arriving a solid fifteen minutes before the clock hit twelve. Well, Futaba didn’t have that obstacle, but he didn’t take her for the early type. He maybe should have waited a minute longer to leave, considering his excessive lingering only made the walk last a quarter of an hour. 

Still, without sufficient time to do anything else, he just leaned against the side of the school, watching the tree branches sway, the last few leaves clinging to them as the wind tried to rip them away. 

The first to arrive, after Akechi, was Makoto and Haru, side by side and practically arm in arm, approaching him with noticeable apprehension. Haru kept throwing glances at Makoto.

Makoto spoke first. “Hey there, Akechi. How’s Ren?” 

Akechi stood more straight. “Still feverish, and I suspect he took too much cold medicine while I wasn’t paying attention. I believe he’ll be better relatively soon, though.”  _ Keep voice level.  _

“Oh, that’s good.” Haru’s voice was high, a little wavering--but she always sounded like that a little bit, right?

At the same moment, Makoto gave him a sharp nod, saying nothing more. Normally, Akechi would have taken the moment of silence following Haru’s words to add another comment or three, some opinion or input, anything to convey something, keep away the silence and eyes on him. 

But Makoto’s eyes were laser-focused just to the right of him, and Haru was incredibly absorbed in running her thumb back and forth across the nail of her index finger, and Akechi could take the hint. 

Still, he stood straight, didn’t let the awkward moment get to him. 

Not outwardly, anyway.

Thankfully, it only took a moment for Ann to arrive, followed shortly by Ryuji. Then Futaba, Morgana following her. Yusuke arrived last, but he was the one holding the calling card. 

After awkward pleasantries, Ann turned to Futaba, grinning widely. “Oh, good, you brought Morgana! I was wondering if he’d just stay home if Ren wasn’t here to bring him.” 

“Of course I came! I wouldn’t just stay home!”

Futaba shook her head. “He wouldn’t let me pet him.”

“No, I did  _ not,  _ because--” 

“Um, guys,” Makoto stepped forward, all but stating her new role as temporary leader. “The calling card? Yusuke, is it finished?” 

A nod. “Yes, I believe so. It reads…” Yusuke flipped the card open, adorned with red and black and the now-famous logo, and began to read. “Masayoshi Shido, you have committed…” 

_ Is this okay? _

_ Working with the Phantom Thieves? Going against everything he’d spoken of, all this time? Why was this what he had to do? There must be…  _

_ No. _

_ He fought for justice.  _ Only  _ for justice. Shido was… Shido was…  _

_ Shido was someone who needed to be taken down. Akechi was at a disadvantage, now, his plan having been messed up so terribly. It wasn’t for him. Never for him. He was the hero in this story, playing behind the scenes, pulling the strings, playing the villain when truly, really, at the end of the day, he’d emerge-- _

_ Victorious, having taken down evil.  _

_ Executed justice.  _

Akechi had to think about that. That  _ was  _ his ultimate goal, as many roadblocks as he’d had to jump to get there, and he wasn’t even… 

He  _ wasn’t  _ the villain. He was the hero. 

It was like a mantra, a reminder, a constant thrumming in his head, behind his eyes, in his chest. The hero. After everything,  _ this  _ was his final chance. 

As the black mask. The psychotic breakdown.  _ His psychotic breakdown, the snap, the moment he realized what he’d put those people through. All the death.  _ **_All the death._ ** He closed his eyes, just a moment, trying to clear his thoughts. It didn’t work. 

“Does that suffice?” Yusuke’s voice rang over Akechi’s thoughts. 

In the corner of his eye, he saw Futaba’s eyes light up. “Yes! It’s perfect, he’ll confess everything for sure!” 

“Dude, it’s great. It…”

Everything was just a roadblock. An obstacle. It was all just standing in his way. No matter, though--Akechi was plenty patient, willing to wait as long as he needed, exert however much effort, time, deprive his body and mind. Anything.  _ Anything,  _ as long as… 

That’s why it was okay to work with the Phantom Thieves. It was entirely temporary; means to an end. 

Ren, too. 

Ren was just… means to an end. 

Akechi maybe should have drank some water at some point. His head was starting to hurt. Well. There were enough reasons why. 

It was fine.  _ Everything  _ was fine. 

Because he would…  _ he  _ would be the winner. Better than the Phantom Thieves. Better than Shido. Execute justice. Prove himself. Be  _ worthy  _ of… 

“Akechi, could you take the card?” 

Akechi looked up. Makoto was speaking to him. “The card?” 

“Shido doesn’t know that you’ve betrayed him, right? You could sneak into his office easily and leave the card while he isn’t there, right?”

Akechi considered that.  _ Probably,  _ was a better answer. But… “Hm… Yes, I’m sure I could.” 

He saw Makoto receive an elbow to the side and a  _ are you fucking serious, man? Him?  _ muttered loud enough for Akechi to hear easily. It was fair enough, but the way the  _ Phantom Thieves  _ looked down upon him made him grit his teeth a little. Regardless, Makoto nodded, and Yusuke handed him the Calling Card with a certain level of finality. 

Well. Akechi would be meeting with Shido, then. 

Shit. 

~~~

His hands shook as he typed the number into his phone. 

_ I need to meet with you immediately.  _

_ I apologize.  _

_ I apologize.  _

_ I really must meet with you. _

He recited the words in his head, each one making him feel more and more sick. Working with Shido again. He took a breath, and put the ringing phone to his ear.

~~~

Shido had said on the phone that he was busy. He’d meet Akechi when he got back to his office. It’d be brief and angry and Akechi would leave seeing red and trying not to shake with anger, fear--

But Akechi knew the code on the door. He knew the right room number, the right way to turn the knob and how to get in and out without anyone finding him suspicious. 

All that phone call meant was that he knew when Shido would be gone. He had plenty of time, and set the card down elegantly, right in the center of his desk, facing the chair. When Shido sat down, he’d be face-to-face with that logo. 

Akechi considered, just briefly, waiting for Shido and suffering through a conversation with him just to see the look on his face. 

Just briefly. 

~~~

Akechi returned to Leblanc with a newfound energy--unbecoming of him, surely, but he was  _ smiling,  _ and it was  _ genuine,  _ so he would let it be for now. 

Sitting at one stool was Ren, face-down in his arms on the counter. A cup of what looked like tea steamed in front of him, untouched. When Akechi sat down next to him, he lifted his head just a little to reveal that he looked not much better, but conscious, at least. 

“Kechi. Tell Sojiro how much I hate tea.”

At that, Sojiro appeared from the back room. “Tell me you  _ really  _ want coffee while you’re sick. Oh, detective.”

_ Detective.  _ “Hello, Sojiro.” 

“ _ Yes,  _ I really want coffee while I’m sick.” 

Akechi gave him a smile, the brightest one he could conjure.  _ For once, it wasn’t especially difficult.  _ “Oh, come now. Tea isn’t so bad. What kind is this?” 

“English.” His tone sounded actively disdainful. “It doesn’t even have a flavor.” 

“That’s a good one.” Akechi picked up the cup by the handle, but faltered. “Have you touched this? Drank any?” 

Ren made a face. “Absolutely not. Neither.”

Akechi nodded and took a sip. Lots of cream, and it tasted like it was sweetened with honey rather than sugar. He glanced over at Sojiro, who must have chosen to give it to him. “It tastes good. It’s sweet.” 

Half-reluctantly, Ren leaned forward and snatched the cup away, almost splashing the hot liquid out. “Fine! Fine, but I don’t trust  _ your  _ taste,” he pointed at Akechi, “drinking one type of coffee every day. Can’t handle spice. Of course  _ you  _ like  _ tea. _ ” 

His voice was a little off, scratching on the occasional syllable and words not quite as crisp, clear he was still sick, even if he was slowly returning to the waking world. Still, if he was making fun of Akechi, he had to guess that it was a good sign. Most likely, anyway. 

Regardless, he took a sip of the tea, considered, swallowed, and shrugged. “Flavorless.”

Sojiro rolled his eyes. Akechi laughed lightly. It turned slightly nervous, though, when Ren’s still half-glazed eyes remained fixed on him for just a moment  _ too  _ long. “...Are you sure you shouldn’t go back to sleep?” 

Ren’s head fell back to the counter with a  _ clunk.  _ “It’s, like, three in the afternoon.” 

_ That late?  _ Akechi wanted to say. Instead, he said, “True, but extra sleep would aid in your recovery. Tomorrow is important, after all.” 

Ren made a tortured noise, but it sounded dramatized. He paused for a moment, and then, “Oh, right, how’d it go?” He lifted an arm to grab Akechi’s sleeve.  _ Can’t wait for Ren to recover.  _

“...It went very well.” He kept his voice mysterious, cryptic. Ren nodded against his arms. 

“Good. I’m glad. And you’ll be coming with us, right?” 

Akechi nodded. “Yes, thank you for allowing me.” 

Ren muttered something Akechi couldn’t hear. Then, “Ughh, fine, I’ll go back to sleep.” He pried his face from where it laid, and pushed himself off the stool to his feet, only wobbling a little bit before finding his balance and looking to Akechi expectantly. 

“Hm?” 

“You have studying to do, right? Come on.” 

Akechi frowned at the still barely touched tea. “You…  _ want  _ me to be alone with you while you’re sleeping?” 

Ren leaned back on his heels. “Uh, are you armed? I don’t think you’re going to, like, strangle me. It’s not your style.” He thought, looking up to the ceiling. “Plus, you’d get caught super quick. And, uh, I don’t know why, but I don’t think… Even if you had the perfect opportunity, I don’t think you’d try again.” 

Akechi kept watching the tea. Still hot, steam curling up, dissipating in the light emanating from the ceiling. The abandoned cup. “No, I wouldn’t.” 

“Then,” Ren swayed a little. “Can you just come on?” 

~~~

Akechi wasn’t sure how he’d ended up like this. 

It was a situation of “should have”s in which no one did what they should have. Ren should have taken less medicine. Ren should have recognized that his judgement was poor due to fever and medication, and been more cautious. No, better-- _ Akechi  _ should have recognized that Ren’s judgement was poor, and been more cautious. Akechi should have  _ really  _ learned how to say no to Ren Amamiya by this point. 

Akechi should have said no when Ren asked him to come upstairs with him. Akechi should have pulled away when Ren grabbed him by the arm, even though, to be fair, it really did seem like he needed the physical support to get up the stairs, and--

No. He should have pulled away. 

And, most of all, Akechi should have said no when Ren tried to pull him down onto the bed with him, refusing to let go of his arm. Should have grit his teeth and said “Go to sleep, Amamiya” when the mutter of  _ ‘Goro’  _ was used against him. 

But he did not. 

So, now, he was on Ren’s bed, leaning against the wall, half sitting, half lying down, with Ren’s head on his chest and all his books stranded on the other side of the room. Ren’s skin was still hot from fever, and it burned even through Akechi’s shirt, not letting him ignore Ren’s presence, keeping him aware. 

He was not  _ used  _ to this. 

Not used to this much  _ contact,  _ for one, and though he knew it was normal, casual behavior for some people, the last time he’d been touched so casually, so affectionately, had been…

Well, he wasn’t sure of  _ when,  _ but he was pretty certain of  _ who  _ it had been, and that put quite the time stamp on it. 

But, even then, it was different. That’d been—well, it’d been uniform. Normal, especially at the time. 

_ This.  _ This was different. 

And it… it wasn’t as if Akechi didn’t have an idea about his ‘deal’ with this kind of thing. He’d been on trains and subways, had someone knock into him and he’d realized it always rattled his head a bit more than it should. Or, some fan would reach for him and it would be too overwhelming too fast. Leaning too far into friendly touch. Not that… it didn’t happen often, anyway. 

It never bothered him much, because it honestly didn’t  _ matter.  _ Because who cares?

But Ren’s arms were wrapped around his waist, head on his chest, breathing slower and slower as his sleep shifted from fitful to peaceful. Curls of hair splayed out across his chest. 

He was a pillow, basically. 

And it was making his head spin.

Slowly, tentatively, he placed one arm around Ren’s back. That was the right move, right? It would be quite the awkward position if he sat there unmoving, and truly acted out the pillow role. 

He assumed he’d acted correctly when his movement was acknowledged with a soft, muffled noise of approval and Ren shifted, seeming like he was trying to move even closer, despite Akechi growing dizzy. 

_ He doesn’t know what he’s doing.  _

Akechi knew he had until dawn at the  _ very  _ latest until Ren gained enough consciousness to realize who he was laying on  _ (laying on _ ) and surely would scramble off of him, Akechi would stand, it’d be strange, awkward. God, it would be so awkward. 

But the alternative was to push Ren off. And, really, maybe that’s what he  _ should  _ do, but one look at Ren’s face, and he couldn’t. Just couldn’t. 

Instead, he leaned his head against the wall, angled downward just a little, and watched Ren breathe, shoulder rising and falling in slow, soft rhythm. It was far too nice, and despite the sunlight still streaming through the window, Akechi found himself sinking deeper and deeper into the comfort lying with someone, with Ren, despite everything… 

Despite everything, absolutely  _ everything,  _ for just a moment, it seemed okay. 

He closed his eyes. 

~~~

“Hey, Akechi. Akechi, hey, everyone’s gonna show up soon. Hey, Akechi, you aren’t sick, are you? If you let me infect you with my affection, my deepest apologies, but in my defense, I was delirious and drugged up, so it was really on you to get me to come to my senses, so, if you’re sick I’m gonna have to blame you. Hey, Akechi.”

Akechi opened his eyes to find himself eye-to-eye with Ren, dark eyes staring right into his and only a couple inches away. By the time he got his eyes to focus, Ren had begun backing away, apparently content with his efforts in waking him. 

“Oh, hey. So, we’re meeting up pretty early to go into Shido’s Palace, and we’re meeting here today, so I figured I’d wake you. Futaba wanted to go somewhere--for practice, I think she said?--and Sojiro wanted me to sleep or something, so they left. Left some curry, though, if you want some.”

And Akechi sat up, because what else could he do? He looked at Ren, now sitting across the bed from him, swinging his legs over the side for a more natural position. “...No, I’m not sick. Give me a minute, I’ll meet you.” 

Ren nodded, almost solemn somehow, and made his way downstairs. Akechi put his head in his hands. Palace day, in  _ addition  _ to the circle around his waist where Ren had held him, remembering the touch and oh, not letting Akechi forget. 

It almost made him miss the darker times. Uniform days he could predict, no questions, no Rens with smiles and affection to rattle his composure. When life was no more complicated than feeling like shit, donning a public image, and secretly plotting for the most painful possible demise for your terrible father. 

Normal things. 

Well. He  _ almost  _ missed it. Not quite. 

~~~

Downstairs, Ren was already behind the counter, two settings flimsily laid out, except for the empty coffee cups. Ren was making the coffee right then—leaned over and peering into the little pitcher, as precise as one could possibly be with a cup of coffee. 

“ _ Shit,  _ oh, that’s fine, actually. Hey, Akechi.” He stirred it a little, then seemed to accept his result and poured the two cups. 

“Amamiya. Are you well enough for today?” Akechi paused, processing his abruptness, then amended, “How are you?” 

Ren just gave a grin, though, as he circled his way around the counter to the two stools. “Yeah, still a little tired, but, you know.” He sat down, and Akechi followed to the seat next to him. “Okay, so, pretty much all of yesterday feels like a dream, so, uh,” he laughed a little, “did I or did I not complain to you about tea for way too long?”

“Well, it was only a minute or two.” 

“Huh, I must be misremembering.” 

Ren neglected his food in exchange for the coffee, which he sipped slowly and taking time to taste it before swallowing. Akechi watched. He probably needed to eat something--they both did--before going into the Metaverse, but… 

Ren’s eyes still looked a little glazed, a little unfocused. His grip on the cup was a little insecure, and his feet didn’t swing against the stool like they sometimes did. With any luck, the use of his Persona would help his energy last. 

It was a little selfish of Akechi, he knew, to sit silent for that extra moment, watching Ren quietly judge his own coffee. He knew this could be his last chance. With Shido’s change of heart on the horizon, everything was about to change. This was just a temporary arrangement. Especially with everything else--the fading public image, his neglected schoolwork. He couldn’t repress that anxiety forever.

But for now, he could just eat far too slowly and look at Ren, make quiet conversation, sometimes easy, sometimes stilted, and wait for the group to show up. 

For just a moment, for this one morning, it was enough. The coffee was good. Ren had a soft smile on his face. 

And every once in a while, that smile was directed at Akechi. As if they were friends. 

For a moment, “as if” was close enough.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Treasures, palaces, and human affection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little shorter than the first two chapters and a little shorter than the next few chapters should be, but it's pretty plot heavy and i didnt want to go any further

_Masayoshi Shido._

_Diet building._

_Ship._

Akechi closed his eyes as the world warped, feeling the ground slowly begin to sway under him. Voices began to shout, planning how they would spring into action, everyone ready to begin. 

He opened his eyes. Everyone was preparing. 

Well. That might have been a bit generous. 

Queen and Noir were preparing, at least, checking weapons and personas, heads leaning together and laughing about something. Panther seemed to be _trying_ to fix her costume, though there was nothing wrong with it, and no matter what she did, she seemed unsatisfied. Joker reacclimated to the persona form, and checked to assure everything was in order. Mona, clearly relieved to no longer be taking the form of an actual cat, jumped into formation immediately, grinning wide.

Fox didn’t do much of anything that Akechi could discern, just sort of studied the horizon, and Skull paced between everyone else in a manner that Akechi would assume to be frantic if it were anyone else, but Skull, he knew, was just excited. 

Something was off. 

He looked around. At everyone. At the ship. At the whole Metaverse. And then down at himself. 

No persona outfit. Just his usual jacket. His gloves were still black, not the dark blue swirls of Loki, nor the bright regality of Robin Hood. Nothing. Just Akechi Goro. 

He frowned. Tried to summon his persona--he was practiced, after all. 

Nothing.

Suppressing his growing panic, he tried again. And again. Nothing happened. Eventually the group began to take notice of his erratic, half-completed motions and summoning spells. All unsuccessful, mostly going half unfinished, sputtering out into desperate murmurs. 

“Crow…?” 

“I… there seems to be something wrong with… a _ha…”_ Akechi’s voice came out wavering, not how he wanted, and he inhaled sharply through his teeth, steadying it. “Something’s… different.”

“Maybe it’s because Shido doesn’t see him as a threat?” Mona offered, straying a bit from his usual role of knowing everything. 

Queen shook her head. “He sees everyone as a threat. Besides, his persona was activated before. It doesn’t make sense that he doesn’t have access now.”

“Then what’s going on?”

Mona hurried over to Joker and muttered something to him, low enough that Akechi couldn’t hear. In response, Joker just looked to the ground. No retort. No comment. He just turned even paler.

“Something wrong, Joker? It isn’t such a big deal,” Akechi managed, “I still have the--” _The gun._ He still had the gun. Somehow, that didn’t seem like quite the right thing to say. “...I still have a weapon. I can fight. I have to.” 

Just the thought of Shido’s shadow in front of him, on the ground, begging for mercy, made his chest boil. It was the culmination of everything. He had no other option. 

Joker just nodded, still looking away, still looking incredibly pale. 

“Joker?” Noir piped up, “Are you still ill? You seem dazed…” 

“No,” He responded, voice just a little too low. “Let’s continue.” 

And that’s what they did. Rushed through the palace, all style and form, not a single faulty step or missed landing. It was the perfect image of the Phantom Thieves--perfect elegance, on the way to destroy minds and steal hearts. Akechi would only accept it once. This was the _only_ time--the _only_ instance in which… 

Joker kept looking at him. Not for long moments--just a bunch of stolen little glances. Still no persona. Absolutely nothing. Actually, everyone kept looking at him. Checking on him, almost. Seeing if he was going to try anything, if his persona was working, if he was still even with them. Every time, he checked the same two boxes. It was only Joker’s gaze that made Akechi want to obliterate the palace right then and there, stand in the center looking at the sky as rubble rained down around him. 

But there would be time for that later. 

When they finally found Shadow Shido, he was angry and he yelled and he seemed incredibly surprised to see Akechi, which was fair enough, considering the circumstances. Regardless of surprise, regardless of emotion, he was already clearly dead set on killing them all. 

And at that moment, it might have been a good thing Akechi didn’t have access to his personas, because he might have begun to fire without Joker’s order. As it was, he grit his teeth and raised his gun, having somehow taken the center stage as everyone took formation around him, personas wielded, ready to attack. Joker stood beside him, whole arsenal of personas at his disposal. 

Akechi had only his gun.

But by god, if he wasn’t going to relish in every shot he landed.

Joker struck first, then Skull, then Queen, perfectly in formation and landing every shot, heal, buff. Akechi took some sort of cover behind a pillar--without a persona, one good hit would be enough to take him out. Finally, Joker turned to him, and gave him a short nod. 

_Finally._

He ran out, sprinting faster than he could ever remember, gun raised, ammo full. He fired once, twice, a third time, grinning wide every time a bullet pierced the shadow’s chest, making him yell out in pain. His aim was perfect--it wasn’t as though he didn’t practice. 

“Good aim, Crow!” 

He frowned at the nickname. He didn’t have his persona outfit--was there any reason to use the alias? He didn’t want… to be really _associated_ with… 

Joker rushed past him, firing a devastating attack Akechi didn’t recognize at the same moment Queen muttered her most powerful healing spell, one that could reach all of them, and he could feel it course through him, blue twinkle lights dancing across his skin. 

He fired again. Again. 

It didn’t hurt the shadow _too_ much, at least not when compared to the blows landed by Joker and Skull, but no amount of damage could match his pounding heart, beating with every hit of ecstacy. 

Finally, _finally,_ Shido’s Shadow collapsed, shouting at them unintelligibly, only the occasional word slipping through, _‘brats’_ or something of the sort. Akechi ran forward, finally finally _finally_ standing over him, over Shido, the barrel of the gun pressed to his head. Behind him, Joker was the one to speak, to deliver the standard speech of be-a-better-person and you’ve-been-defeated-give-it-up or whatever it was. Meanwhile, Akechi held eye contact. He could feel his eyes glittering. 

When the shadow disappeared, Akechi lowered his arm, shaking just a little, and stared upwards, blankly taking in the sky, the vast metaverse sky painting the seascape. 

Shido was defeated.

In days, he’d confess to all his crimes, and Akechi would be victorious, he’d have found justice, uncovered the truth, he’d be _free, he’d be free, he’d…_

He was hurt, having not _quite_ managed to make it out of the fight without a wound, and he was grinning so wide at the sky it hurt the side of his head. He fell, slowly, to the ground, succumbing to the weight of the metaverse, the wonder of his accomplishments, and, _fuck,_ the burning pain in his side. 

Akechi refused to let the Phantom Thieves carry him to safety again, though, so he supplied his own healing item and chewed slowly, making sure to take in every last drop of its effects as the rest of the group assessed the situation, celebrated, and, in Queen’s case, made her way over to Akechi with slow footsteps and lowered herself to match his position.

“Are you okay?” 

Akechi tried to give a light laugh, but it came out a little too loud and a little too heavy. “Perfectly. I’m _perfectly_ okay.” 

She frowned. “Are you sure? I can use a healing spell, if you need it.” 

He shook his head. “No, save your SP. The item’s working great, see?” He pointed to his wound, which was already beginning to heal. “Besides, this is…” he took a slow, shaky breath, “just… _such_ a… Shido’s defeated. _Shido’s…_ ” 

Mercifully, Queen gave him a light smile, “Yes, he is.” 

~~~

Back home-- _home?_ \--it was already dark out, and Ren wasted no time briefly greeting Sojiro, waving goodbye to Futaba, and heading right upstairs. Akechi followed, after trying to catch Sojiro’s gaze and being widely ignored. Which was… well. It was fine. Futaba gave him a sympathetic grin, though, seeming to notice his attempts. 

His hands were still jittery, eyes still unfocused and his whole body still keyed up, no calming down from this one. Sleep was an impossibility, he already knew, and there was no way he’d be able to focus his mind enough to work. 

Still. It didn’t really matter--not now, not now that he’d _done_ it, he’d _done it,_ he could leave, he could stop, everything could finally end, he’d proved himself, _proved_ he was justice, the truth would come out and justice would be served and Akechi… Akechi…!

It wasn’t right. 

What wasn’t right? 

_Why weren’t things right?_

_‘Why aren’t things right?’_

_He’s thirteen and the railing is cold on his hands, but he just grips it tighter, with both hands, scared of what he might do if he lets go. The rain is light, drops just big enough for him to feel as the land on his face, in his hair, on his clothes, but he stares at the sky. If he looks down, he will die._

_He doesn’t know how he knows that, but he does._

_He shouldn’t have been left alone here, high above city streets, only a waist-high railing between him and the drop._

_It’s so twistingly empty it takes his breath away. No one inside, no one outside. Even the streets are barren. To be alone is… preferable, of course, but…_

_He says it to the sky._

_‘Why aren’t things right?’_

Two hands wrap around his, his hands clasped together, now held together, held still, by bare skin against gloves. 

Akechi looked up. It was Ren, of course. 

Ren opened his mouth as though to speak, but closed it again, paused, considered. Then, “You know, for not even having a persona to use, you still fought pretty well.”

Akechi would have, under normal circumstances, raised an eyebrow and said something like _‘I have many talents’_ or _‘So you see, I am not to be underestimated’_ with a bright, sarcastic, kind of fake smile. Instead, he just spoke, voice low. “It was Shido. It’s over. It’s not--” He choked off, and swallowed hard, not willing to let himself cry right now--he might have given up quite a bit of his pride the last few days, but he still had his limits, dammit. “I have good aim. I, uh.” He paused. “I’ve… practiced.” 

Instead of giving the snarky response Akechi could see on the tip of Ren’s tongue, it deflated, and instead, he just muttered, “Oh.” And they fell into silence. 

Silent, Ren let go of his hands and pulled himself up to sit next to him on the couch, leaving ample space between them. Akechi didn’t move, still bent over, hands clasped together, still not entirely still, as desperately as he tried to settle them. Ren leaned all the way back. 

“Mm not… s’ okay, you know?” Ren’s voice sounded softer, words not as clear. 

Akechi turned to him. “Are… _you_ okay?” 

“Jus’ tired. Uh, real world, I’m still a little sick, plus,” He took a breath, but this one wasn’t nervous, just a break in his words. “Plus, palace fighting is tiring, all right? Gimme a break.” 

Akechi didn’t respond, just slowly removed his gloves. A bold move, but one that he felt he deserved for the moment. Shaking aside, he wanted a moment of free fingers. 

“I just need to sleep. Ugh, school tomorrow. Though, you know,” Ren pushed himself up a little bit, and Akechi glanced at him just long enough to catch the glint in his eye. “I slept really well last night. Wonder why.” 

He looked at Akechi, who methodically ignored him and sighed. “So you _do_ remember. That was _your_ fault, though.” 

“No idea what you’re talking about.” Akechi could hear the smile in Ren’s voice, lilted with false innocence. 

“Go to bed, Amamiya.” 

“Oh, well now,” Ren stood and turned to face him, taking full advantage of his position by being sure to glare _down_ at Akechi, exaggerating the angle as much as possible. “Now you just sound like Morgana.” 

“Where _is_ Morgana, anyway?” 

“Huh, good question.” Ren shrugged. “He’s disappeared once or twice before. If he doesn’t show up tomorrow, I’ll alert the group.” With that, he shrugged, and fell backwards onto his bed. “Night. Turn off the light, will you?” 

Akechi obeyed, and the room fell into darkness moments later. He took one breath, two, three, and when none of them worked, just laid himself down and tried to calm his nerves. With very little success. He tried to stay still, don’t turn over too many times, so as not to wake a surely already sleeping Ren. But… 

“Akechi?” His voice was soft in the dark, quiet enough that Akechi almost didn’t hear him. “Are you… alright?” Uncharacteristic. 

“Fine.” He matched Ren’s soft tone. 

“Oh.” Silence fell again, and Akechi tried to keep even more silent than before. “But, like. If you can’t sleep, uh… not to, you know, imply anyth… just, I slept really well last night when, yeah, so, if you want…” He trailed off. 

Akechi brought a hand to his face, which was stupid, because he was trying to hide his expression in the dark, and from an angle where Ren couldn’t see him even if the lights were on. “You’d…” He turned his head as far as he could, managing to make out the silhouette of Ren, who’d moved backwards, as though he was… 

“Only if it’d help.” He added, half to Akechi, half to the wall.

Akechi considered. Definitely calmly, definitely _not_ with growing panic in his chest. “You were sick, then.”

A rustling, as though Ren was shrugging. “And you’re upset, so…”

Akechi knew he should _not_ concede to this. Just say no, be kind, let it go, wait out Shido’s confession, and then disappear. He could make his own life once Shido was gone, live how and where he wanted. He’d still be the same--acing every class and playing the role of ace detective (that is, if he could manage to get back his spotlight--which he _had_ to), but it wouldn’t be under Shido’s thumb. But Ren was being so kind to him, and… “...I… okay.” 

“Okay?” Ren’s voice sounded almost panicked, and Akechi moved to rescind what he’d said, but Ren continued, “okay! Come on, then.” and his voice sounded actually… happy?

So Akechi did, slowly, as quietly as he could--which was unnecessary, because the only other person in the whole building was Ren, who was awake and waiting for him. _Waiting for him._

When he sat down, then laid down, he did it almost gingerly, not daring to touch Ren or even get any closer to him than he had to. But he could feel the heat from where he’d been lying just a moment ago, and that was enough to stress him out all over again. 

Ren reached out to him first, taking his hand with movements just as tentative as his own, but with warm, comforting hands. 

Akechi exhaled, slow, just a little shaky, and found himself unconsciously leaning towards Ren, just a little, almost imperceptible. At least, he hoped it was imperceptible. Ren spoke, his voice impossibly low, “Hey, you can… uh…” Pause. “I was laying on your chest, so…” 

_So, you can do the same._ Akechi averted his eyes, because, god, why and _how_ was he here again, lying next to Ren? Two nights in a _row?_ Some trick of fate?

Still, he moved forward just a bit, bringing them just inches apart. Ren closed it without warning, wrapping two arms around his neck, and for just a moment, Akechi thought this might have been a trick, just meant to lure him close so Ren could strike, could take revenge for everything he deserved to take revenge for, but instead of his windpipe being crushed, all that came was the two arms, wrapped calmly around him, and Ren’s head on his shoulder, pressed into his neck.

It was nice. Too nice, maybe, because Akechi returned the gesture, and the pose basically became, well… just a normal hug, though it was horizontal, to be fair. After several moments,it was Ren who maneuvered them into a more natural sleeping position, essentially the same one as before, but swapped, Akechi lying helpless on his chest, exhaustion finally catching up to him, so much so it was barely Ren, in his head, who he held onto, just… nothing. Nothing. 

As if the world had taken mercy on him, he disappeared into calm sleep near immediately, so fast, in fact, that he didn’t have the presence to panic at the fingers tangling themselves in his hair. 

~~~

Sunlight. Soft sunlight shone on the back of his head, and Akechi ignored it, intent on dissolving back into his unconscious state, had been so sweet, so calm. He was still held in place by two arms, and he didn’t have the wherewithal to process _what,_ exactly, he was holding onto, but it sent waves of warmth through his body and mind, unfamiliar but very, very welcome, and he didn’t dare to move, lest it go away…

Oh. _Shit._

He pulled himself up, panicked, looking back down at Ren, whose eyes fluttered open in response to the sudden movement. 

“H...uh…? Goro… huh?”

Akechi stood quickly, moving so as to disturb Ren as little as possible, who pushed himself into a sitting position nevertheless, touching a confused hand to his chest, light, barely making contact. Akechi very pointedly turned away gathered some things together, grit his teeth, _anything_ to avoid Ren’s gaze which would no doubt seek him out any minute. 

“Goro… what…?” 

“You have school today, right?” 

“Uh… yeah… damn, my alarm was about to go off. I have to go, actually.” 

Akechi paused for a moment, completely still, willing himself not to think, not to _think_ about how soon Shido would confess, how little time he had left here and the annoying fact that he was actually a little _bothered_ by knowing he’d have to leave Leblanc soon. He really hadn’t wanted to stay there in the first place, but he’d just spent the night quite literally in Ren’s arms, and that was so… god, so _stupid_ of him when Ren probably… probably… 

Probably, no. _Definitely_ was the right word--Ren _definitely_ hated him, _had_ to be planning something, _couldn’t_ just be doing this out of the kindness of his heart, because Ren was kind, inconceivably so, but he must have a limit. Akechi had… he had… 

Akechi had a week at the longest before Shido confessed, likely less, and though he had some sort of bond with Ren, it wasn’t enough to justify _this,_ not after everything. It was a beneficial relationship for him--just a way to get to Shido. So Ren must be getting something out of it, too. 

_A sort of ‘rehabilitation’._

Ren stood slowly, tiredly, and searched blindly around the room for his school uniform. He’d never changed his clothes the previous night, and now stood in his casual clothes, disheveled just a little, his hair even messier than usual.

And, okay. Akechi wasn’t blind--it was cute. Really cute. 

But that wasn’t important. And Ren needed to get to school, and Akechi needed to stop looking at him immediately, and Akechi _needed_ to get something done today if his mind would calm down enough to allow it, and Akechi really, really did need to turn away--

Ren found his uniform and jumped into a little sideroom to change. Akechi waited, a little dumbfounded, for him to return. When he did, Akechi avoided eye contact and made his way into the little room, needing to change into anything except the clothes he’d been wearing for the past day and a half, the ones he’d _slept in._

When he returned to the attic, Ren was gone. His bag was gone, too, which meant he’d left for school. Akechi went down the stairs, considering the possibility that Ren had simply gone down to eat. No Ren. 

So he just returned to the upstairs and sat. And sat. And made an attempt at homework. And set it down immediately after. Really, honestly, truly, what was he supposed to do? He was itching with the need to _do,_ but lacking in the drive or ability. He couldn’t meet up with anyone. He couldn’t get to his school. 

He stared at the stars on the ceiling and tried to forget his life. Every occurrence--he’d will it all away.

~~~

Akechi must have _somehow_ fallen asleep at some point, because when he was jolted awake, it was by Ren appearing at the top of the stairs, footsteps heavy, and, sure enough, with Morgana back on his shoulder. The normal appearance, though, couldn’t take away from Ren’s expression.

Pale, a little frightened, and turned pointedly away from Akechi as he moved almost robotically through routine, and Morgana wasn’t helping much, explaining nothing and also very pointedly ignoring Akechi. So things _were_ going to be strange, now. He’d expected that much, of course. It’d be foolish not to. He knew how things were. 

The bad news was that he had absolutely no chance of sleep now. Not after having apparently slept through much of the day. 

So, when Ren went to bed and Morgana curled up on top of him, Akechi got up and left, instead opting to roam the streets at night. 

An unusually warm night, as it happened. 

_His gloves._ He’d left them in the attic. Without them, he wrung his hands together, uncomfortable, irritated at his forgetfulness and frustrated more than was reasonable for something like this. Still, he kept walking down the dark streets, sparse for the hour and illuminated by streetlights and the bright, warm lights of places that didn’t close until late.

Those lights were strangely comforting. Always had been, as far back as Akechi could remember--even with everything, when things were at their very worst, when he couldn’t even see straight, the warmth of the windows’ light calmed him, if only just a little, without fail. 

If he thought too hard about it, he was sure he could come to a pretty solid conclusion as to _why_ it comforted him so, but he wasn’t about to go down that route. Not when it would affect him so, not when he was so infuriatingly low on energy lately, anyway. 

Half-unconsciously, he ran two fingers down his own arm, distantly recalling… 

_And only two people, ever, both out of reach, both out of…_

It would be charming, he thought, to write about one of these restaurants on his blog. He rarely wrote about these kinds of places, so, he figured, it would be a nice way to shift his image. He’d have to do that anyway. 

Well, he’d been to Shibuya Diner already. He could, really, write about that. But he couldn’t remember the taste of the food--not that he ever took too much attention to flavor, blindly writing in that dumb, cutesy style he always did in order to appeal, but usually he could at least recall, a little bit, what the food had been like. Not this time. 

He only recalled his own nervousness, how stupidly dumbfounded and silent he’d fallen, Ren’s eyes on him, Ren looking at him. 

Akechi wasn’t sure what was a more dangerous train of thought to indulge. The implications of the windows’ warmth, or the effect Ren had on him. 

Best to avoid them both.

Yeah.

He looked up, instead, just slightly, as he walked, this time to the real stars, blissfully present in the usually cloudy sky. Countless and infinite, perfect in position, unfaltering in precision. 

Something wasn’t right. 

His thoughts were scrambled--not _worse,_ exactly, but as if someone had shook his head without his knowledge, and now his entire mind was just ever-so-slightly altered. 

It wasn’t bad. It was actually… quite nice. Scrambled and chaotic as he felt, it was also as if… as if someone had turned off the buzzing, the constant, _incessant_ buzzing he could usually rely on to wreak havoc in his mind at any given time. Now, though, he looked at the stars and allowed the chaos in his head to go on and on, untroubled, unbothered. 

It would be best to return to Leblanc.

~~~

Days passed in a blur, shockingly calm, and Akechi was, for once, not quite so tortured by, well. Most everything. Ren didn’t offer that same affection again--though, once or twice, he’d place a hand over his, or lean on him when they happened to be doing homework at the same time. 

Just friendly. Akechi was grateful, but wondered why. 

He wondered why about quite a few things. Why would Ren continue to offer such friendly affection? Why would he tolerate Akechi at all? 

Why was it that, sometimes, he would look at him with unrestrained pity, sometimes with simple kindness, and sometimes with pale, frightened, unsettled features, so much so it was almost enough to frighten _Akechi_?

And then there was that other look he received even more rarely--one Akechi couldn’t quite place, but it always lingered, and Akechi always was the one to avert his eyes, cautious of the quiet stirring in evoked. 

So. Suffice to say, Akechi counted the days between the stolen treasure and the confession, the day he’d be able to witness the moment of Shido’s destruction. 

Seven days, as it turned out.

~~~

The television had been playing some generic shopping channel. Nothing that interested Akechi; though the prices were reasonable, the products were most always so useless they weren’t worth buying even for the discounts. 

He wasn’t sure why it was playing in the first place. Sojiro didn’t seem to have much interest in it, nor did the few customers. He wondered, momentarily, if he let it play for Ren, who watched it with an almost creepy intensity. But, to be fair, he watched _most_ things that way, as though he was trying to drag as much valuable information out of it as humanly possible. 

Akechi had to respect it. As a detective. 

Ex-detective. 

For now. 

The screen crackled for a moment, and then a new channel appeared. It changed automatically. _Nationwide viewing,_ Akechi assumed. 

It was blank for a moment, before Shido’s face filled the scene.

Akechi clenched his fists. Involuntarily. 

_“In light of my recent election, I’d like to…”_

A confession. This was a confession. He leaned forward, intent on the screen. In the corner of his eye he saw Ren to his side perk up, all anticipation.

_“...I’ve done things, terrible things. I’ve killed…”_

It was over. This was it. He could feel his eyes widen, intense and needing, _perfect,_ exactly what he’d been waiting for all this time. 

The confession. He was trying to say _everything--_ he was pulled away too quick, his associates desperate to cut him off before he incriminated himself too far. Or, rather, before he incriminated them. 

But with every single thing he said, Akechi leaned in further, and he could feel Ren behind him, closer, and it was such a _merciful_ moment, watching Shido unravel into undignified shatters of glass, practically pitiful, but Akechi had no pity for this man.

And then he felt Ren’s hand grab his where it sat on the table. 

He whipped around, but Ren’s eyes weren’t on him, still fixed on the screen with frightening intensity, the slightest smile playing at his lips. 

A similar emotion to Akechi’s, as it happened. Though he doubted Ren felt the weight of _years_ lifted off of him, just the simple joy of victory. Of executing justice. 

So it was involuntary. 

Still, Ren’s hand tightened on his, and Akechi couldn’t help but feel that in some miniscule way, this victory was a joy for them to share. 

Even if he didn’t want to share one bit of it.

~~~

“Well, if the confession is over and done with, I should be going back home.” Akechi paused, the mysterious lack of confidence clear in his voice, “as soon as I can, anyway.” 

Ren sat at the counter, staring down into his coffee. Akechi watched him, waiting for the affirmative response. “You don’t have to.”

Akechi sighed, almost offput by the politeness. “Amamiya, you know I--” 

“Ama--You used to--!” Ren turned to him, quickly, _angrily,_ and Akechi leaned away without thinking. Angry? At _this_? This is what he should want, right? Akechi leaving? Ren took a breath and started again. “You used to call me Ren, you know.” 

“When?” 

“When--When we worked together? When you first made the deal with me and the… Phantom Thieves. In Sae’s Palace.” His voice was quiet, spoken directly to the table. 

Akechi grimaced. “Things have changed since then. You know that.” 

“Oh, I do indeed.” Ren’s voice was almost mocking as he lifted his cup to his lips and took a large sip a little too quickly, flinching at the heat just a bit. “I just--! I just… thought we’d made some sort of progress, I guess. Um… what’ll happen when you leave?” 

Akechi paused, unsure how to respond. What sort of question was that? The answer seemed obvious, and seemed as though it was _favorable_ to Ren--to be through with Akechi once and for all. Unless, perhaps, he didn’t trust that Akechi wouldn’t return again with a new scheme? “I’ll return to my home and continue my life as normal--or as normal as I can manage, that is. I was lucky that Shido didn’t cite me as one of the people carrying out his orders, so I most likely won’t be charged with… murder.” The word felt gross in his mouth, almost taboo. Sure enough, Ren seemed to flinch a little at it. “I’ll leave the Phantom Thieves be. It’s still… not _perfect_ in my own view of morality, however… I believe any attempts to shut you all down with only myself as firepower would be unwise. Besides, I’m willing to admit that my moral ground may not be especially high. Essentially, you may return to your life as though you’d never met me.”

“Huh.” Ren continued staring at his coffee. “...You don’t have to leave, you know.” 

“No need to be polite, I’ve already long overstayed my welcome.”

Ren bit his lip and paused, considering. “Is this an imposing thing? Are you leaving because you feel like you’re imposing on me? If you really want to leave I’m not going to stop you, but if you’d stay if you believed I _wanted_ you to…” He trailed off. Akechi blinked at him. 

“If you wanted me to? The question is irrelevant, because you don’t.” 

Ren made a face at him. “I can’t believe you called _us_ idiots. You’re so…” He flailed a hand meaninglessly in the air as if it’d convey his meaning. “ _Yes,_ Akechi, I want you to stay.”

_What?_

Akechi just stared at him stupidly, unable to form a coherent response that would convey what he wanted to convey--which, for the record, was, _‘don’t lie to me’_.

Instead, Ren cut him off to continue. 

“Thought I was pretty clear about it. Not sure why you don’t believe me, or you still seem to think I want you gone at all costs.” 

Now _that_ was something Akechi could sufficiently retort. “ _That’s_ obvious. After everything that occurred--in the interrogation room, in Shido’s palace--how could you _not_ hate me? It’s not emotional, it’s _logical._ No one in their right mind would hold affection for me in your position. Just because you act polite and kind doesn’t mean you care for me, only that you _are_ polite and kind. Yes?” 

Ren exhaled, all theatrics. “Okay, so much to unpack here. First, who ever said I was in my right mind? Wasn’t it you who said I wasn’t? Second of all, polite? Really? I spent real time with you. We were getting close again. We shared a bed, Goro, when we really didn’t need to. _Twice._ ” 

Akechi looked around, searching for Sojiro or Futaba or even Morgana, anyone who could’ve overheard that one. No one. “Not recently.” 

“What?” 

“You’re gone all day, return home, act strangely towards me and then go to bed. That’s the correct way to act towards someone who’s done you wrongly multiple times but you’re insisting on being kind to out of the goodness of your heart.”

Ren averted his eyes. “That’s--I’m always out all day.” 

“You know what I mean, Amamiya.” 

Ren’s eyes shut tightly. He looked… actually upset, and he wasn’t responding. Akechi glanced around again, this time looking for something, _anything_ that could bail out this conversation. Nothing. And Ren still wasn’t responding, and god, he really did look _upset,_ and--

“But I… believe you now. I’ll continue to stay here, if… if that’s what you want.” 

Ren’s eyes flew open and he turned to Akechi, smiling. _Smiling._

And it was such a strange moment, but Akechi couldn't help but smile back as Ren responded, completely confident and without a waver in his voice.

“It is.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rituals, anger, injury, and dreams

Akechi Goro stood in the bathroom of his own apartment and stared at his own reflection.

He didn’t do it often. For all his faults, he was hardly a narcissist. In fact, the general opinion he took of his own appearance was neither positive nor negative. It was simply… just another thing to maintain. Important for his TV appearances and not much else. He hardly even recognized himself most of the time--it was his television persona, not really… him. 

But his appearance required maintenance--an _annoying_ amount, honestly--and Akechi had been mortifyingly poor at keeping up with his usual tasks in the past weeks. The immeasurable weight of Shido had been lifted, and god if he wasn’t eternally grateful for that, regardless of the means, but the emotional impact had apparently crippled his usually electrically efficient scheduling, and just about every aspect of his life was suffering.

Most things he could ignore, pretend it wasn’t happening. Mercifully give himself a break with few symptoms other than the deep, unshakable feeling of dread that followed him, but that was a constant anyway. Making it slightly more intense than usual was a small price to pay for a few weeks of calm.

But that was because it wasn’t visible. What he could _not_ ignore was his slowly deteriorating appearance--especially his hair, which was beginning to stick up at random angles, and… it was entirely unacceptable.

He’d take the time to fix it, style it, wash it in a way that took more than his recent five minutes. In his own apartment. Pretending he wasn’t going back to Leblanc in a few hours, going back to see Ren just because Ren _wanted_ him to? It didn’t sound right, even in his head, but Ren had said it to him in no uncertain terms that he wanted to stay. 

Which implied he wanted to see him.

No, more than that. It implied he wanted to see him a _lot,_ in the morning, at night. A shaking level of intimacy Akechi was starkly unaccustomed to. 

But. The idea of Ren wanting that with him? 

It could just be wishful thinking. Or… 

Akechi let the lukewarm water run cold.

~~~

It was his first productive night in weeks, and Akechi refused to let it go to waste. 

He was still at his apartment, and had decided to get some work done while he was there. Somehow, maybe because this was the environment he usually worked in, once he started he couldn’t stop. 

Ten P.M. 

He was back on his phone, making call after call, trying to salvage _anything._

“I’ll talk about something other than the Phantom Thieves. Surely my past appearances gave me some level of positive reputation that isn’t tied directly to them?” 

“I don’ know what I can do for you.”

“Give me a new case.” 

It took excruciatingly long, but Akechi Goro was eventually granted a new case to work on. It was practically a propaganda case, with how little of the media’s portrayal of it was true, but it was a murder case. 

Though, looking over the preliminary files he’d been emailed, he was already pretty sure no murder had taken place. Still. He’d been assured this meant he would be given more in the future, so long as he could make some appearances and talk about the case in such a way that he sounded like the same old genius detective. 

So the plan was to spout nonsense while the camera rolled. 

He had plenty of experience with that maneuver. 

Still, there was… a certain sinking feeling in his chest when he considered the possibility of returning to work, even if it _was_ his less… torturous one. 

But he currently had no income, and living on his own (well… ‘living alone’ in the sense that no one was helping him pay for the apartment) for as long as he could, he still had things he had to pay, and he would run out of money eventually. 

If he ran out of money, he’d have to either turn to shadier options (not an option), live more permanently at Leblanc (even less of an option), or return to his… previous living situation (the idea made him actually physically ill). 

His only option was to go back to work. 

That was fine with him. 

Eleven P.M. 

Midnight. 

Turns out lots of schoolwork piles up when you don’t go. Akechi accepted he wouldn’t be able to get it all done that night, but resolved to work his way through what he could. He had to entirely teach himself some math (fine), practice several Kanji and memorize several more new ones (tedious, but fine), and teach himself an entire month’s worth of science (terrible). 

Eventually, the hour became too late and even Akechi’s practiced skill of working through the night was failing him. Lacking the energy to do much else, he gave up and just laid down on his own couch in his own apartment and nodded off, not bothering to check his phone.

If he had, he might have seen the several semi-frantic texts from Ren and the scattered group chat he had been added back to for reasons he couldn’t discern. 

_Where are you?_

~~~

Akechi could already tell something was different before he even returned home. 

It’d been a _significantly_ empty day, even more so than, well, pretty much every day of his life since Shido’s confession. 

He’d never gotten any more news on that front. For all he knew, Shido was locked away already. Or hiding out somewhere. There was no way to know for sure, but Akechi was certain of one thing--Shido’s life was a living hell. 

That was good enough. _More_ than good enough. 

He’d spent the day crafting an excessively saccharine blog entry and hoping people would still read it. They did--not as many, but slightly more than the last one, indicating a possible upward turn in his popularity. Which was good, but--he didn’t want to have his entire image be based around this godawful blog. He’d actually wanted to _distance_ himself from it, and now here he was, having to rely on it for any sort of public image detached from the Phantom Thieves. 

Though, to be fair, it was awfully difficult to separate himself from the Phantom Thieves when he lived with their leader.

But something was different today. He returned to Leblanc abnormally late--for no particular reason, just didn’t check the time--and all the lights were off, the entire building empty. To some extent, that made sense. Sojiro and Futaba would have returned home by now, but Ren should be home and presumably should still be awake. He also usually left the light on--for Akechi? He wasn’t sure, as neither of them had brought it up, but a light was always left on when he returned home--but instead, it was completely dark. 

A little tentative, Akechi made his way upstairs as if nothing was different. He turned the light on--just the small one in the attic, not much in the way of light--to reveal what was decidedly the cause of all the strangeness. 

A card, lying face-up on the desk. Black and red with the Phantom Thieves’ logo on it.

He walked over to it. Picked it up, unfolded it, read it slowly, meticulously. 

Addressed to Goro Akechi. 

Listing his sins. Every single one of them. 

A calling card. 

Akechi’s hand tightened on the card so severely it crumpled, and he slammed it down on the desk, frustrated, irritated, a little _infuriated_ that Ren would--Ren would--

Betray him? No, he couldn’t be angry at betrayal. Of everyone, he certainly did not have the right to feel _betrayed._ But this somehow felt _worse_ than if Ren had betrayed him in a _normal_ way.

If Ren had just choked him out, or shot him, or handed him over to the police. Or something like that. In a flash of anger, he felt he’d rather have _died by Ren’s hand_ than have Ren try to fucking fix him or--or what? What was this? What would his change of heart even _be?_ How could he have a palace when he felt remorse already? 

What the hell was Ren trying to _do_ to him? 

He presumed Ren wouldn’t be back tonight. That made sense, at least--his presence could interfere with the effects of the calling card. 

The _effects_ of the _calling card._

Akechi pulled out his phone, scrolled down to Ren’s name (saved under his first name, no less--he’d have to remember to change that), then changed his mind and tossed the phone over to the couch unceremoniously. He had one day. One day before god-knows-what happened to his heart, and he could be changed _irreversibly._

But, much to his eternal shock, he heard footsteps to his left, quiet, growing louder with every one. Coming up the stairs. 

Ren appeared, moving slowly, nervous, up the stairs and into the attic. 

“You got the card?” 

“Why the hell are you--no, actually,” Akechi turned to him, fast, and the sharp movement seemed to make Ren jump, unconsciously leaning backwards, precarious over the stairs. Akechi didn’t care. “A _calling card?_ Are you serious?” 

Ren nodded, methodical. “Please note that your palace isn’t, uh… an evil one. Not mostly. Your--Well, Futaba had a palace too, so. Yours is kind of like hers, though I suppose with _more_ negative intent, but it’s not so much like the others as much as it is--you’ll feel _guilt_ when we take the treasure, but it’ll mostly… it’ll have a positive effect.” 

“That’s not--” Akechi breathed, trying to maintain his calm. “That’s _not_ the problem. I don’t _want_ you to do that.” 

“Huh?” 

“Please. Don’t steal my heart. I don’t want you to--” He made a vague gesture. “What are you trying to do here?” 

“Help you, we want to help you.” 

“I don’t want to be helped. Well, that’s not… this isn’t _help,_ Ren. You’re trying to fix me, I can tell, that’s what the Metaverse _is,_ isn’t it? Fixing people? I don’t want to be fixed.” He said it a little more harshly than he’d intended, but he meant what he said and he felt… justified. “I don’t want your pity.”

Ren just stared at him, dumbfounded. “That’s how it’s done though, right?”

“How _what’s_ done?” 

“How--you know. I help you with something. Deepen our bond.” Ren sighed. “That’s the give and take. I’m useful to you.”

“You want to deepen our bond?” 

“You don’t want me to help you?”

“You wanted to help me?”

“Okay,” Ren lifted both hands in surrender. “We may need to talk.”

~~~

“You have too much pride. We can really help you.” 

Ren was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. Akechi was on the other side of the room, pushed up against the side of the couch farthest from Ren, staring at the wall. “Help me? Just because of _your_ savior complex…” 

He heard Ren push himself up into a sitting position, but didn’t bother to turn and look at him. “ _My_ savior complex? Take a look at yourself, Goro.”

“ _Me?_ ”

“Yeah, you.” Ren sounded… tired, all of a sudden. “You said as much in Sae’s palace. You just want to play hero.” 

Akechi felt himself tense again without meaning to. “I want to _prove_ myself, isn’t that reasonable? You just want to solve everyone’s problems--I want to seek justice. I _did_ seek justice. I don’t need your _help._ ”

For a moment, there was complete silence. As though Ren was thinking, considering, carefully planning what to say next. Choosing his words carefully. Then he heard Ren stand slowly, and walk over to him with perfectly rhythmic footsteps, settle himself next to him on the couch. Akechi didn’t turn to see how close he was, but he could feel the heat of a person next to him in the cold room. Too close. “Prove it.” 

_Huh?_ “...Huh?” 

“I know you pretty well. I don’t think you _can_ help yourself.” A short pause. Ren silent, Akechi swallowing hard and resigning himself to _not move a muscle._ “So prove it. Prove you can.”

“A competition?” Akechi spoke slowly. Methodically. “I accept your challenge.” 

At that, Ren leaned back, putting a much more acceptable amount of space between them. Akechi tried _not_ to lean forward towards the lost heat. “Good.” 

So it was an intimidation tactic. 

Ren knew what he was doing. Akechi would have to stay keen to compete with him. 

He smiled a little in the darkening room. A lovely game, indeed.

~~~

 **Futaba:** hey hey, kechi 

Akechi frowned down at the text message. He hadn’t been surprised to hear his phone buzz, but the message being from Futaba was a bit of a shock. He didn’t exactly speak to her often. 

**Akechi:** Is something wrong, Futaba?

 **Futaba:** nah i just wanted to talk to you for no reason?

 **Futaba:** uh listen ren wont respond to me, can you remind him his rooms bugged. because i think he keeps forgetting and i cant watch this anymore

 **Akechi:** You bugged his room? Why?

 **Futaba:** i bugged all of leblanc forever ago, man

 **Futaba:** wanted to keep an eye on boss, so

 **Futaba:** but can you tell him please

 **Akechi:** What’s so gross you’d only say something now? Anyway, you could just not watch the tapes. Or remove the bug. 

**Futaba:** cant, goes against the hacker code

 **Futaba:** also dude. ive had to watch so many googly eyes between you guys its disgusting 

**Akechi:** I’m not sure what you’re referring to. 

**Futaba:** can you just. please. remind ren im watching

 **Akechi:** I suppose. 

**Futaba:** great, thank u 

**Akechi:** I actually wanted to ask you about something. Can we talk in person?

 **Futaba:** mmnnnggg

 **Futaba:** hhh ok. 

**Akechi:** Okay? 

**Futaba:** okay. can we meet in leblanc?

 **Akechi:** Sure. When will you be there? 

**Futaba:** tonight? i kno that’s your time w/ ren or whatever but does that work for you

 **Akechi:** I’ll see you then.

~~~

If that night would have been ‘time with ren’, as Futaba put it, not much was lost. Ren had gone out that night to god-knows-where, and Akechi was sitting at Leblanc’s counter, without coffee, waiting for Futaba. Sojiro had left only minutes ago. Without speaking a single word to Akechi, of course.

After what must have been several minutes of waiting, Futaba swung the door open and flung it shut with finality and a slight grin, before walking her way over and sitting herself down next to Akechi. 

“Yo. What’d you want to ask?” 

Blunt and to the point, almost rude. Akechi actually quite appreciated it. It was a welcome deviation from the usual niceties he was used to. Well, that he _used_ to be used to. But even his conversations with Ren felt like tip toeing sometimes. Futaba simply seemed to not have the time. “Right. That’s… I was wondering what you learned from… bugging my phone, back then.” 

Futaba nodded sagely. “Oh, I learned lots of things. I learned that you were a _trai_ tor, that was the coolest thing. I’d suspected it before, but oh man, I was pretty shocked I was right!” She swung her feet a little. “I mean, that’s not all I learned. But, y’know.” 

Akechi breathed slowly, dangerously close to being impeded by emotion. “I suppose I more wanted to know how much of that other information you shared with the rest of the Phantom Thieves.” 

The feet stopped swinging. “I didn’t.” 

“You didn’t…?” 

“No,” She shook her head. “I only bugged your phone to investigate whether you were a traitor or not. It’s not like. I know what it’s like to, uh.” She made a face, maybe irritated by her impeded ability to convey her point. “I only showed them the Shido footage that exposed you. Didn’t want to expose anything I didn’t have to. Uh… I know what it’s like to have that kind of… _stuff,_ exposed before you’re ready. I guess.” 

Once again, Akechi thought through all the things Futaba surely knew. He’d been so stupid to not realized what she’d done when she’d taken his phone. It was possible her bug had only been able to pick up phone calls, and that was bad enough, but if it was recording audio at all times… 

Futaba may or may _not_ have heard him cry once or twice. 

Or more than that. Details. Semantics. 

Akechi glanced at her. “Thank you. Futaba.” 

“Yeah. Was that it?” 

“It was.” Akechi paused, Futaba jumped down and faced him, hands linked behind her back. “Well, I was wondering… I’d like to talk to you again sometime. I think we have a lot in common.” 

Futaba grinned wide. “Ooh, new social link! Nice.” She pumped her fist in the air, twice. “Yeah, sure. I’ll text you again at some point.” 

With that, she gave him a wave and disappeared out the door. Akechi exhaled. He knew social bonds were important psychologically. Or something. Besides, there were… a _lot_ of things he had to apologize to Futaba for. 

The idea made him a little sick. But he figured it was an important step in defeating Ren at his game. Becoming close to Futaba Sakura. She wasn’t so bad, anyway. 

He’d win for sure.

~~~

_Ren placed his hand on Akechi’s jaw, fingers wrapping delicately around, four placed casually around his cheek, thumb pulling slightly on his lip. Akechi shivered. He could feel his eyelids fluttering, his head becoming foggy, soft, torturous buzzing in his ears. Ren smiled at him, pulling their heads closer._

_“Are you nervous?” Ren spoke softly, yet Akechi could feel his breath against his lips, hot and slow, drawing his heartbeat to his ears. His breath came fast. “Don’t worry. I won’t push you. Shove me away, if you’d like.”_

_Akechi did not._

_In lieu of a response, Ren’s lips spread into a grin, and he leaned forward the final inch, connecting their lips in a soft kiss. Ren’s hand cupping the side of his face, holding him steady, and Akechi felt like the wind was knocked out of him, and he wrapped both arms around Ren’s waist without even thinking about it, and--_

Akechi’s heart pounded as he woke suddenly, bolting upright with a gasp. His face felt hot--his whole _body_ felt hot, and as he pulled back his blanket to allow the air onto his skin, he was suddenly very grateful for the icy air. He waited until his mind cooled to a standard pace of thought. 

Oh. This was bad. This was _extremely_ bad. 

He stood quickly, silently, checked his phone to see that it was not yet six in the morning. Ren continued to sleep, and Akechi didn’t dare look at him longer than a glance--just long enough to confirm that he hadn’t woken him, and just long enough to confirm that looking at him was, in fact, a terrible idea.

Akechi changed his clothes quickly, almost hastily, just to be wearing something warm, and disappeared down the stairs and out the door. Into the increasingly biting winter air. 

It was still dark, first hints of sun not quite appearing over the skyline. 

He could see his breath in the air--too fast, too hard, and the cold was beginning to hurt his lungs. He tried to slow it.

He really, desperately wanted to speak to someone. Anyone, really--a human voice, as well as any kind of conversation to draw out literally _any_ emotion other than the one he felt right now. Make that the _two_ he felt--the rising shame in his chest demanded to not be ignored. 

But anyone he might speak to would definitely be asleep still. No one would be getting up for school or work just yet. Even the streets he walked were widely empty. There was a much better change of foot traffic if he headed over to the red light district--but that was a long way and a train fare away. He still had another few days before his career officially started up again. Until then, money had to be tight.

It wasn’t as though he had anyone to speak to, anyway. 

Well. He did have one person he _could_ call, someone who would almost certainly be awake and with her phone on. 

Though it might… be strange to call Futaba at the current point in their relationship. Then again, she was so far gone socially she probably wouldn’t mind. Then again, she might not want her hacking business interrupted. 

Then again, phoning a friend seemed like the correct and healthy way to cope with his current onslaught of bothersome, _bothersome_ emotions. And Ren had challenged him to become more of a correct and healthy person, and Akechi certainly wasn’t going to lose the game. 

He pulled out his phone.

“Yeah?” 

“Hey, Futaba.”

“Kechi.” She actually sounded a bit tired over the phone line. “What’s up?”

“Were you asleep?” 

A short pause. “Mm, nah. Dozed off at my desk a little. Guess it’s good you called, I woulda hurt my neck. Wasn’t using my pillow or anything…” 

“Oh.” 

“Uh, shouldn’t you be asleep though? It’s like, dark out…” 

“It won’t be for long. I just decided to get up early,” Akechi lied. “And I felt like talking to someone.” Less of a lie. 

He heard a click over the phone—it might have been her tongue or her computer, he couldn’t tell. “Arright then. Let’s talk.”

~~~

It was _shockingly_ calming to speak with Futaba. She spoke in a way he wasn’t accustomed to, casual and joking and with honestly no regard to the history of their relationship—not his betrayal, not how he’d saved them. Not even her mother’s death seemed relevant to them when she got caught in another short ramble about something or other. 

Then again, if anyone was going to understand and even sympathize with his past, it was Futaba. Genius Futaba, with the deepest personal experience with… well. 

With what? What exactly was his and Futaba’s shared experience? Abuse? Mental illness? The words felt foreign and bitter, even just in his head. Masayoshi Shido, in general?

How much was he willing to admit to himself at six thirty on a cold Thursday morning?

When Futaba hung up after a long while, Akechi realized he hadn’t gotten the chance to even bring up the things he wanted to. It seemed okay, though, for the moment, to simply discuss inconsequential things, and leave the hard stuff for another day. 

~~~

When Akechi returned to Leblanc, Ren was eating breakfast at the counter, and he could hear someone moving around in the back. Sojiro, he assumed. Couldn’t be Futaba—he knew she was still home. 

Ren turned to him with a grin. “Hey there. Up early?”

“Just couldn’t sleep.” It wasn’t _not_ true. 

In return, he got a calm nod. It reminded him of Futaba’s, and he wondered, briefly, if she’d perhaps picked it up from Ren. Or vice versa? “Right. You know, sleeping is a pretty good step towards personal improvement—I’m not sure how you intend to prove yourself like this.”

Akechi took the seat next to him, content to just talk a bit before he left for school. “Oh, don’t underestimate me. I don’t intend to lose—I have other methods.”

“Hmm,” Ren mused, “and what might those be?”

“You didn’t truly believe I’d fall for that?” Akechi raised one finger. “Never reveal your plot to your opponent.”

“Your plot. Right.” Ren suddenly seemed very invested in his curry. _His plot_ may have been poor word choice, considering everything. Akechi bit his lip, but said nothing. 

Instead, he just rested both arms on the table and leaned on it, trying to find the position that looked the most comfortable and the least like his heartbeat was in his fingertips. 

Ren stood after a moment, apparently finished with his breakfast. He stood still for a moment, looking down at his mostly-empty bowl. Then up at Akechi. Then down at his bowl. “I don’t know. For a while there, I kind of thought…” He inhaled sharply, sharp enough that Akechi could hear the air whistle between his teeth. “Hm. Never mind.”

He disappeared into the kitchen before Akechi could respond. 

Without the conversation to distract him, Akechi was forced to actually experience the cold that flooded his head and chest when Ren walked away. It was troublesome. Little more than annoying. 

But then again… wouldn’t the _healthy_ thing to do be… to deal with it? Work through his emotions calmly and casually, and come out the other end with a resolved, cool head?

Then again. That would require him to speak to Ren, to _confess_ something. Confess what? It was pretty difficult to calmly resolve his feelings when he didn’t know what those feelings were, exactly. 

Except for the small detail that he knew exactly what he was feeling, and it was nothing short of vile. He couldn’t stand to even think about it directly. God forbid he feel something for a person--it was not only outside of his realm of experience but debilitating and infuriating. Simple friendships were functional as both an advantage and a massive hindrance--platonic connection was something he hadn’t felt in a long time, at least on a deeper level, but it was… acceptable. He understood it. 

He understood how it was worthwhile to, for example, speak to Futaba when his mind reeled too much. It forced him to expel the unwanted feelings in an acceptable way. The correct way. The way that would lead to his victory. If he hadn’t called her, he’d either have to grit his teeth through the feeling all day (or all week, maybe), or have resorted to other methods, ones that certainly wouldn’t be approved. 

But _this._

This was the _cause_ of the very turmoil he wished to expel. The buzzing in his head was more than unpleasant--it impeded his thoughts and damaged his rational thoughts. What could be worse?

This could only be positive if indulged. 

Akechi was not an indulgent person.

Nor was Ren, he suspected. 

Which left him at a dead end. His best choice was to simply ignore it. 

He’d ignore it.

Ren returned from the kitchen, and immediately the same warmth returned to Akechi’s chest. He coughed, hard, hoping he could somehow physically force it out. 

It worked a little.

“Are you okay?” Ren’s eyes looked just a little wider than usual, a touch of concern in his voice. “You aren’t sick, are you?” 

It did not work, even a little, apparently. 

Akechi shook his head. “Sorry. Just swallowed wrong, I believe.” He was horrified to find his voice slightly weak, catching on the occasional syllable. He cleared his throat as inconspicuous as he could. 

Ren’s expression remained slightly twinged with concern, but mercifully did not follow up on his previous question. “I have to leave for school. Uh, we’re probably going into Mementos later today, do you want to come with us? We usually don’t use everybody at once in battles, anyway, so the lack of persona shouldn’t be much of an issue. If you come, it’d be like you’re part of the team.” 

Akechi would honestly prefer to do pretty much anything except spending countless hours in a Mona-car with Ren and his friends. _Joker_ and his friends, that is--and the idea of that ridiculous costume was… 

Akechi really, really needed to leave. 

“Sure. Are you sure they’d all be alright with it, though? I’m not sure of what Sakamoto’s and Nijima’s thoughts would be.” 

Ren waved a hand dismissively. “Call them Ryuji and Makoto. And they’re just being cautious. Don’t attack anyone, and it’ll be fine.” 

Akechi sighed, hoping it was believable that his exasperation was due to the scorn of his… ‘teammates’. Heavy quotes on ‘teammate’. And that it wasn’t due to his failed attempt to get out of Joker and Mona-car shenanigans. 

He wondered the odds of a sitcom-like turn of events in which him and Joker were left alone in the Metaverse. Considering how he’d somehow wound up _still_ living in his _room,_ he figured his odds were pretty high. 

Instead of voicing any of this (because, god, why would he?), Akechi forced a smile and nodded. It seemed the forced nature of his expression wasn’t obvious, because Ren smiled back and quickly left for school. 

Akechi ignored the flash of heat behind his eyes at Ren’s smile, and tried to make a productive plan for the day. 

~~~

Sure enough, the Metaverse was even more functional as a hellscape than usual. 

Akechi had been almost kidding when he’d considered the possibility of being left alone with Joker in some corridor--an awkward situation; hijinks ensue!--and yet, there he was, in the most abandoned corner of the expansive, everchanging map they could find, alone with Joker and probably stuck that way for some time.

He’d gotten injured. His persona still wasn’t working (everyone seemed to politely ignore the reason for his persona’s failure--Akechi’s palace wasn’t mentioned, not even once), and it had really only been a matter of time before some shadow managed to land a hit. 

Luckily, it was only a physical attack. A solid magic attack without a persona might have been the end of him. Instead, the shadow’s blade had struck right along Akechi’s upper leg, tearing through his clothes as well as much of his _leg_ and it hurt like _hell._

No damage to his bone, but the bleeding was profuse and his ability to stand was greatly hindered. The logical course of action was for him and one other person to take refuge in a relatively abandoned corner to heal him up the best they could. 

It _didn’t_ make sense for it to be Joker who went with him. It didn’t even make a _little bit_ of sense. Queen was the one with the strongest healing spells at her disposal (hell, Joker was limited to just Media--Queen was leagues ahead in that area), and Joker was the leader. It was a terrible idea for him to leave the group, especially since he was physically the strongest, considering all his personas.

But one look at Queen’s face made it clear she didn’t want to be alone with Akechi. Mona, even in his truer form, didn’t have the physical size or strength to half-carry Akechi like he’d have to. 

Even with all that in consideration, it didn’t make sense for it to be Joker. 

And yet, here he was, leaning half on the cold wall, half on Joker’s shoulder, halfway delirious from pain. He could feel Joker’s hand on his leg, just barely to the side of his wound, whispering the words to Media as quickly as he could. The dancing blue sparks flew over the torn flesh, trying to heal it, but lacking the power to make progress at any pace faster than what Akechi could only describe as _torturously fucking slow._

Akechi swore under his breath, teeth gritted together against the pain. He felt Joker’s free hand grip him by the shoulder, holding him upright. It offered little consolation, as much as Akechi tried (and he really did try, in the split second before his short train of conscious thought was swept under the haze of pain once again) to take solace in it. 

It took infuriatingly long, but after a long while, the weak sparkles of Media finally managed to close the wound enough for Akechi to exhale with relief. It stopped the bleeding, but the line where the slash had been was still raw, probably dangerous to touch. Still, to even get it this close to healed, Joker must have cast Media several times. Akechi collapsed against him, content, for once, to be held up by another human being of his own free will. 

A calm placement of his final healing item seemed to strengthen the weak skin, and it was deemed safe for Akechi to attempt to stand. He did so, with mostly success, save for a momentary stumble.

Akechi brushed himself off, a little embarrassed. He had to wipe sweat away from his forehead, turned pointedly away from Joker. He did manage a “Thank you”, though, so all was not yet lost. 

Joker just grinned at him, eyes bright behind the mask. “You let me help you.” 

“I wasn’t even thinking straight.” 

“No, I’m sure you weren’t.” He walked forward and briefly extended an arm, as though offering his support once again. Akechi shook his head at it, and Joker continued. “Anyway, successful as you might have been so far, I still don’t plan to lose.” 

Oh. Akechi frowned at the ground. “You haven’t seen the best of me yet, Joker. I don’t plan to lose, either.” 

“I’m sure I haven’t.”

~~~

When they returned to the group, it seemed like not much had been lost due to Joker’s absence. Skull tossed him a small bag, and Joker caught it with ease and pulled it open. “Is this your earnings? Judging by this, it’s a good thing I’m back to do the interrogations.” 

His backhanded insult was met with light protests, but it was clearly all in good fun. Akechi watched them, definitely not with even a little bit of longing in his eyes. 

Makoto laughed lightly, and calmly cast her Diarama, the blue sparks settling themselves across the entire car. Whatever lingering exhaustion Akechi had felt due to the wound dissipated, and he muttered a “thank you” among everyone else’s. 

The Phantom Thieves were certainly a mystery to him. Yet, when Joker turned to him with one last smile before he began to drive… he thought maybe, just maybe, being a part of their group would be… 

_Maybe._

Akechi shook his head slightly. _No use thinking such pointless things,_ he thought, as Futaba leaned her head against his shoulder. 

The Phantom Thieves were the Phantom Thieves. Akechi was Akechi. 

But. Maybe. _Just maybe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! i want to a few notes here just to clear some things up--these are all things that will be cleared up in the story, but as it hasnt been published yet, i want to not leave any confusion 
> 
> \- i am not setting up any romance between akechi and any of the other phantom thieves. there is only one pairing in this story   
> \- is the whole "self improvement due to competition only" thing healthy? probably not! would akechi undergo actual effortful self improvement for any other reason? probably not!  
> \- why isnt ren and akechis usual banter present? theyre just really goin thru it rn, itll come back in time  
> \- the other phantom thieves are present but not dwelled upon because im really bad at writing them. especially ryuji. you have no idea how much i want to write ryuji a bigger role in this. my god.


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